The Ties that Bind
by EmperorsConcerto
Summary: "Why did no-one ever tell me?" "I thought it was too dangerous. I was trying to protect you." The young witch shook her head in disbelief. "I had a right to know." Everything Bonnie Bennett thought she knew is about to change. Alliances shift and bonds will be tested as she bravely shoulders a new destiny and faces her deadliest enemy. Damon/Bonnie pairing. Bonnie-centric. AU.
1. Something's Coming

**Author's note: **

So this is my first time writing for this fandom and I am a little nervous. It is completely AU so ignore everything from canon because I am going to be making up my own stuff.

This is a Bonnie-centric story that will feature a Damon/Bonnie pairing.

I will borrow elements from the show, but they won't necessarily be featured in the same way.

Finally, this story does not follow or take place in any existing timeline on the actual show. But the Salvatores have been back in Mystic Falls for a while when the story starts.

If any of this is not to your liking, you may want to click the 'Back' button now. Otherwise, keep reading. Thanks for giving my little fic a chance!

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Any familiar characters or recognisable dialogue is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p><strong>1<strong>

**SOMETHING'S COMING**

It was Friday night and Mystic Grill was packed. Tucked away at a booth near the back, Bonnie sat on her own finishing her supper. She ignored the pair of eyes presently burning a hole in her head, knowing they could only belong to one person. But she was in no mood to deal with Damon Salvatore tonight.

She had not seen him since they returned from their disastrous road trip the previous weekend. Bonnie still didn't know how to feel about what had happened, so now that another crisis had been averted, she decided it was best if she just steered clear of the vampire.

Still, it had been weighing on her all week. The young witch couldn't help but feel that the events of that weekend were only the beginning. Her instincts were fairly screaming at her that something was about to shift. Something was coming. And she had no idea if she was prepared for it.

"You want a refill?"

Matt's voice snapped her out of her musings. He gestured to her empty glass. She was surprised she hadn't even noticed him approach her table.

"I'm good thanks," She gave him a small smile but it didn't reach her eyes. Bonnie played idly with her discarded straw paper. "I think I'm gonna get out of here though."

"Sure, I'll bring the cheque," Matt paused and gave her an assessing look. "Bon, are you okay? You looked pretty deep in thought when I came over here."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she was fine, but she stopped herself. She and Matt had grown up together; they were practically family. And he knew her well enough to tell when something was up.

"I may have a few things on my mind," She admitted. "It's just been a really long week."

Matt didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't push.

"Don't you get off soon?" Bonnie asked suddenly.

"Way to change the subject, Bon." He sounded vaguely amused by her obvious attempt to get the attention off of her.

She glared at him playfully.

"I'm only asking because I know your truck's in the shop and I was going to offer you a ride. But hey, you can always hitch with Chad and his sex mobile."

Matt visibly shuddered at the thought of the promiscuous bar tender that had a certain way with the ladies.

"No way! That would be a health code violation. I don't even want to think about what's been left on those seats!"

"Oh gross!" Bonnie made a face.

"Hey! You brought it up. But I'll take you up on that ride. I get to punch out in ten."

Bonnie nodded in agreement and watched him head back towards the bar, chuckling to himself as he muttered 'sex mobile'.

In the next moment, she realized her mistake when her gaze met with a pair of cerulean orbs. She kept her expression carefully neutral and then casually looked away, hoping he'd take the hint.

He didn't.

"Don't pretend you didn't see me just now, Judgey," Damon suddenly dropped into the seat opposite her. "You looked right at me."

"I'm not pretending anything. I'm ignoring you," She said coldly. Her eyes were directed at his face but she didn't really see him. Didn't really _want_ to see him.

Then she added, "I would think you could tell when you aren't wanted. You've certainly had enough experience."

This last part came out a little crueller than she had intended. Damon looked taken aback by the sudden venom in her words and a look of hurt flashed briefly in his eyes. But the expression was gone almost as quickly as it came, and the mask dropped into place.

"Would you like to tell me the reason for this sudden hostility?" Damon spoke through his teeth.

"It's not sudden."

"True," He admitted. "But given _recent events_, I thought we were calling a truce." She didn't like the way Damon was looking at her. As if he was trying to peer into her soul. "So why do you hate me again today?"

Bonnie looked incredulous. She was suddenly furious with him. Couldn't believe he would sit here with her, asking that, as if he'd never done anything wrong.

"Why do I hate you?" Bonnie practically sputtered; her coldness exploding into a burst of heated outrage. "There are too many reasons to count! Let's start with the way you used Caroline. You nearly destroyed her just so you could mess with your brother and Elena. And then there's the small matter of you trying to _kill_ me."

"Are you ever going to stop throwing that in my face?" Damon sounded bored. "It was _a year_ ago. And you're missing the main point. Which is I _didn't _kill you. I could have; if I wanted to. But I didn't. And I don't. Does that not count for anything?"

"Oh please! Your act only works on an audience, Damon. And _Elena_ isn't here. So cut the bullshit. If Stefan hadn't been there, you would have left me for dead without a second thought. I'm _alive _because of _Stefan_."

"That's right, it's always Stefan. He's the saint and I'm the sinner," He spat the words out like nails and didn't even bother to mask the bitter resentment in his voice. But Bonnie was unmoved.

"You sound like a whiny brat," She said bluntly, refusing to cater to his pity party.

"Me! You're the one being childish! You're sitting here pouting over a little blood."

If looks could kill, a certain vampire would be six feet under. Or doing his best impression of a flaming torch. But Damon steam rolled on.

"Tell me, Bon-bon," He snapped, what little patience he had was officially spent. "If you are _that_ angry with me, if you hate me so much, then why did you do it? Why did you break your _one rule_ to save _my life_?"

That brought her up short. Her mouth opened as if she would respond, but she didn't have an answer. Why had she done it? Yes, Damon would have suffered if she hadn't. But at least she wouldn't have abandoned her morals. And that's what bothered her the most. The fact that she'd done that for Damon Salvatore, of all people, made it ten times worse. And of course, being Damon, he wasn't going to miss out on the opportunity to throw that in her face.

"Is everything okay?"

Bonnie had never been more grateful for Matt's timely appearance. He took a protective step towards his friend when he saw who was with her, not sure what he had just interrupted. Damon inwardly scoffed. As if the blonde jock would ever stand a chance against him.

The young witch immediately got to her feet.

"Everything's fine," She responded quickly, paying no more mind to the vampire. "You ready to go?"

Damon couldn't help but feel a little offended at her obvious eagerness to get away from him.

"_I would think you could tell when you aren't wanted. You've certainly had enough experience."_

Her earlier words echoed in his head. He'd be lying if he said that hadn't stung. But he and Bonnie were similar that way, always knowing exactly which buttons to push. For once though, Damon hadn't actually come over with the intention of antagonising her. But, judgey little witch that she was, Bonnie just had a way of getting under his skin. He would never admit it, but he secretly enjoyed their verbal sparring. She was the only one who could go toe-to-toe with him, and give back as good as she got.

He watched as Matt and Bonnie disappeared through the Grill's exit, the scent of Jasmine, _Bonnie's_ scent, growing fainter. The vampire huffed.

"Damn Judgey didn't even say goodbye."

Looking for a distraction, he noticed a buxom brunette eyeing him from the bar. Damon smirked.

_Dinner time._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"So what was that about?"

They had been driving for about ten minutes. Bonnie took the left turn that would get them on the road to Matt's house. He lived on the east side of Mystic Woods so there was a slightly deserted stretch of road before they reached the suburb.

"Damon was just being...well, Damon," She brushed it off.

Matt arched an eyebrow at that. It was no secret that Bonnie and Damon couldn't stand each other, and their bickering wasn't unusual. But that didn't account for the weird tension he had sensed when he found the two of them earlier. It also hadn't escaped Matt's notice that the elder Salvatore had been watching Bonnie from almost the moment he entered the Grill.

"Bon, did something..."

He never got to finish his question. Just then the engine of Bonnie's Prius made a very discouraging sound and started to sputter.

"What the hell?" They were losing speed and Bonnie was forced to guide the dying car to the shoulder of the road. She tried to start the engine again. Nothing. Not even that tell-tale hissing sound. And her head lights were no longer working either.

"This is turning into some night, huh?" Matt offered her a lopsided smile. They both got out of the car and Matt popped the hood to see what the problem was.

"Well, this is weird."

"What?" Bonnie said, a little distractedly as she looked over the surrounding landscape. She had the oddest feeling; a prickly sensation at the back of her neck. She felt like they were being watched.

"The engine is fine. I mean, everything is in working order. There's no reason why it should have failed like this."

At Matt's words, her sense of foreboding only grew. Her witchy senses were tingling and Bonnie knew by now to trust her instincts. Nothing about this picture was right and the weight that had settled in her belly was quickly spiralling up into a throbbing of dread.

"Matt, get back in the car."

"Bonnie, what..."

"Now! Just get inside."

"I'm afraid it's a little late for that."

Bonnie didn't even have time to respond. The stranger seemed to materialise out of thin air behind them. She uttered an incantation and Bonnie watched in horror as Matt dropped to the ground, hitting his head on the edge of the side mirror as he went down.

She tried to go to him but found her limbs were frozen in place, as though they had been glued to the earth.

"What did you do to him?!" She cried angrily.

"Don't worry, Miss Bennett. It's just a simple sleeping spell. He'll come round in a few hours. Now try not to struggle too much, you'll only make it harder on yourself."

Before Bonnie could utter another word she felt a terrible pressure inside her head, as though the very walls of her mind were being hammered on by an anvil. The last thought she had was whether this is what Damon felt every time she gave him an aneurysm.

And then the world faded to black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_**24 hours later**_

Well this was a turn up for the books, Damon thought.

So the little witch had been kidnapped.

Served her right for ditching him. For a moment Damon enjoyed being petty. He sipped his bourbon, a bored expression on his face as he listened to Stefan, Elena and Caroline continue to talk in circles.

Two hours earlier, Elena and Caroline had burst into the boarding house, frantic with worry since they received a phone call from Matt. He and Bonnie had been attacked the night before, and now Bonnie was missing.

"It's going to be okay, Elena," Stefan spoke reassuringly. "Bonnie is one of the strongest people I know. And we're going to do whatever we can to find her. I promise."

The pretty brunette looked up at him gratefully from beneath her lashes.

"Thank you, Stefan," She took his hand in her own, intertwining her fingers with his. "That means so much to me."

Stefan gave her a reassuring smile and then not so subtly extracted his hand from hers. Elena's expression fell slightly at this. Something that wasn't lost on Damon, who had been watching the exchange. The frown on his face deepened.

When his brother made the decision to walk away and broke up with Elena, no-one had been more surprised than Damon. That had been a month ago.

Elena hadn't exactly fallen into his arms, but Damon knew she was close to giving in. They had already kissed, twice, and she had finally admitted to having feelings for him.

So it was more than a little annoying to see the sometimes soulful looks she gave Stefan, or the hand that lingered on his arm a little too long to be purely friendly.

Damon drained his glass and ignored the tic in his jaw.

He would wait her out. Elena had been blind-sighted when Stefan took the choice out of her hands. She just needed some time and then she would come to him. Damon would get his girl this time, and then maybe that hole in his heart would finally knit itself back together again.

"Does Sheila know?" He finally decided to enter the discussion.

"Matt was at Bonnie's house when he called Caroline," Elena told him. "Her Grams was trying to perform a locater spell. But whoever took Bonnie knew how to block it."

"Definitely another witch then," Damon mused. "Did Matt happen to say what this witch looked like? Did she have any kind of distinguishing tattoo or mark?"

"What are you getting at Damon?" Stefan eyed his brother curiously.

"Bonnie and I had a run-in of our own recently, with four warlocks. And they all had this same weird mark, like a tattoo, on their neck. If someone took out three of your friends, you might want a little payback."

"Bonnie did WHAT?!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

Caroline, Elena and Stefan all spoke at once.

"One at a time children," Damon grimaced at the cacophony of noise that assaulted his sensitive hearing.

"First of all, they attacked us. Bonnie acted in self-defence," She had saved his life. But Damon decided he didn't need to mention that detail. "I didn't tell you because it was council business, and Bonnie didn't want to worry anyone. I respected her decision." Damon ignored the looks of surprise on two faces when he said this. "And I didn't mention it before, because it wasn't relevant. Until now."

He and Bonnie had wordlessly agreed not to mention exactly what had happened that weekend. As far as she was concerned, the whole business was over with so there was no need to bring it up. Damon knew that wasn't the only reason she wanted to keep things quiet, but oddly enough, he found himself willing to keep her confidence. The witch _did_ save his life. He owed her.

Besides, he didn't feel like the inevitable lecture he would get from Stefan and Elena, in turn, if they found out. Even if what happened wasn't remotely his fault, and Bonnie had volunteered of her own free will to go through with it.

Stefan looked at him sceptically, like he suspected there were a few key details his brother was leaving out. But Elena was the first to respond.

"I guess I can understand that. But you know you can always talk to me. You can trust me," She told him sweetly. Damon's expression softened as he looked at her, something uncharacteristically tender entering his gaze.

"I know," He murmured softly.

Stefan looked away uncomfortably and Caroline rolled her eyes. Fortunately, the awkward silence was broken by the blonde's mobile ringing. Caroline frowned at the strange number flashing on the screen, and hesitantly pressed accept.

"Hello?" She said cautiously.

In the next moment Damon was sure his ear drums had shattered as the former cheerleader let out a piercing shriek before,

"Oh My GOD! Bonnie?! Is that you?"

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2: <strong>So that's the first chapter! If there's interest I'll continue. And rest assured Bamon fans, this is NOT going to be a Bonnie/Damon/Elena triangle fic. Miss Gilbert will soon fade into the background. Thanks for reading! Feedback is most welcome.


	2. The Kindness of Strangers

**Author: **Thank you so much for your enthusiastic response! To my reviewers, thank you for your encouraging words. Hope everyone enjoys the new chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>2<strong>

**THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS**

_**16 hours earlier**_

_She was running._

_Her footfalls echoed loudly against the walls of the empty hallway, pounding against the checked marble floor._

_The first door to her left and then down the second staircase. Another left when she reached the bottom. _

_Past the blue drawing room. _

_Then turn right at the end of the corridor. She was almost there. Just a little further and she would reach the front door. _

_She would be free. _

_Her hand grasped the door knob. It turned. It wasn't locked. _

_Almost there. _

_The door opened and..._

_NO!_

_She was back where she started! _

_Bonnie sank to her knees, digging her fingernails into the rich fabric of the Persian rug beneath her. Her chest tightened painfully as that glimmer of hope grew fainter with each failed attempt._

_That had been her tenth try. _

_Every time she tried to leave, every time she thought she had found another route, she wound up back in that hideous bedroom on the upper level of the house. She had even tried jumping off the roof, only to find she had landed on her back, in the middle of a large four poster bed, back in the room._

_Bonnie wasn't an idiot. She knew there was something adjusting this reality. That she must be under some sort of illusion. But whatever rabbit hole she had been shoved down, she knew there had to be a way out._

_So she kept trying. _

_The young witch inhaled sharply and glared at the bedroom door that was always left slightly ajar, each time she landed back here. Taunting her. But she wasn't going to give in. _

_Again, she tried to use her magic, furiously chanting the spell of revelation as she looked for a weakness in the illusion. Some way to break it. Her emerald eyes flashed gold with the force of the magic she was trying to use._

_Bang!_

_Bonnie jumped as, one by one, all the lights in the room suddenly burst._

_Crack!_

_The window shattered. Had the spell worked?_

_Bonnie! Bonnie, come away!_

_There was a disembodied voice drifting in the air and the young witch screamed as she felt herself yanked violently back._

Light erupted on all sides, dispelling the image of that room; that isolated palace. Blinking a few times to gain focus, her mind worked rapidly to help her realize where she was and how she had gotten there. Only then did her eyes widen as she suddenly became aware of her surroundings.

She was lying on a narrow bed in a dingy motel room, the worn comforter rough against the bare skin of her arms. The room itself was a complete shambles, like the scene of a particularly violent domestic dispute. Vastra, the witch who had taken her, was significantly absent. Two men lay unconscious on the floor and from the way their heads lolled she realized their necks had been snapped.

Bonnie swallowed hard against the bile that started to burn in her throat. This was certainly not the first time she had been around a dead body, but she didn't find it any less unsettling.

Turning away, Bonnie realised she had failed to notice the third occupant of the room. Standing at the foot of the bed was a young man. He didn't look more than twenty eight, his blonde curls giving him an almost boyish appearance. But his eyes, sea-coloured wells of knowledge, looked ancient. And they were fixed on her, drinking her in. She reached out with her senses, trying to get a read on his energy signature to confirm what she already suspected.

He was something supernatural.

"Are you alright?" He spoke softly into the charged silence. He had an English accent.

"I..." She hesitated. "Did you kill those men?" Bonnie asked boldly.

"Yes," He answered bluntly, without any remorse.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice shook slightly, but she fought to keep her expression neutral.

The stranger frowned at her words.

"Never," He responded and Bonnie was surprised by the earnestness in his voice.

"I know you must have questions," He continued. "And I will gladly answer them. But right now, we need to move."

"Why would I go anywhere with you?" Bonnie asked. She was immediately on her guard.

"Because I mean you no harm. I went after those men because they were holding you hostage. But I would never hurt you. I'm here to help you."

Seeing her hesitation, he moved towards her. Bonnie instinctively recoiled, pressing herself against the head board to maintain some distance between them.

Raising his hands to show he meant no harm, the stranger crouched down next to the bed so that they were level.

Very slowly, he dropped a small revolver on the bed. Bonnie's eyes widened.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" He asked gesturing to the gun.

She nodded. Matt had taken her out on the shooting range a few times. When his dad had still been in the picture, he and Matt used to go hunting.

"Good. Bonnie you're feeling confused and uncertain about all this. That's understandable. I know you have no reason to believe anything I've said. But I really need you to come with me. Keep that with you," He nodded towards the gun, "and the minute you don't trust me, you shoot me. Alright?"

Still watching him warily, Bonnie agreed. Whatever her reservations, she knew she didn't have much choice in this situation. She had no idea where she was, no money to speak of, and she was missing her cell phone. As much as she didn't like it, this stranger was her best shot.

That was if he didn't chop her up and leave her in pieces on the highway first.

But then why would he give her a loaded gun to defend herself against him? The energy surrounding him was strong and powerful. But Bonnie didn't detect any intent to kill directed towards her. Still, she felt a little better for having the gun now in her hand.

Getting off the bed, she was a little unsteady on her feet. This didn't go unnoticed by her rescuer.

"Are you alright to walk?"

"I'm fine," She dismissed his concern. "I'm tougher than I look," She added, with a stubborn tilt to her chin.

"I do not doubt it," And Bonnie could have sworn she saw a spark of amusement in his blue-green eyes before he turned away, leaving her to follow him out into the night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was standing at the edge of a vast field.

Trails of blood, like tiny rivers, made a path across scorched earth to the funeral pyres that were burning. The smoke morphed into dark, faceless shapes, moaning and weeping as they reached out to him with ghostly fingers. Their pitiful wailing grew louder as they drew near, crying out in lamentation.

"_Save us! Save us, we beg you!"_

She backed away from them. The light shone behind her, but she could not turn. She was powerless against the howling voices of the dead and the darkness that closed in around her...

Bonnie jolted awake!

She was breathing hard after her dream, her heart pounding. The young witch squeezed her eyes tightly shut until all she could see beneath her lids was white, willing the images from her nightmare to disappear.

She was taking slow, measured breaths, trying to calm herself, when the driver's side door opened and her saviour slid back into his seat. That was when Bonnie realised that it was light out and they were parked at a gas station.

"Breakfast," He handed her a brown paper bag. Coffee and a blueberry muffin, Bonnie mused.

"It's not much but..."

She shook her head.

"Thank you," She said sincerely. A glance at the clock on the dashboard told her it was eight in the morning. When she met his gaze, he was looking at her strangely.

"Are you alright? You seem a little flustered."

A flash of images from her dream assaulted her once more, but she pushed them back. She had enough to worry about, without having to deal with her nightmares _right this minute_. It would keep for another day.

"I'm fine," She said quickly, "just starving," Bonnie made a show of taking a large bite of the muffin, and then sipped her coffee leisurely so he wouldn't press her. "Where are we anyway?"

He arched an eyebrow at this, but if he was suspicious about her deflection tactics then he didn't let on.

"Somewhere off the Interstate, just past Charlottesville. It's another three hours till we get to Mystic Falls," He told her.

Bonnie's eyes widened.

"Did you drive straight through?"

He nodded. "You fell asleep about twenty minutes on the road. You were knackered, love. Hardly surprising considering what the witch put you through."

The young witch frowned thoughtfully as she sipped her coffee.

"What was that anyway?" She wondered, remembering her continual efforts to find the exit out of Narnia.

"An illusionary technique," He explained. "Very complicated, very advanced magic. You control the flow of energy in your victim's cerebral nervous system to mess with the senses. The body follows the brain's lead. So you can create false images and cause severe physical trauma because the brain thinks its experiencing pain. The illusionary technique is very powerful. And often a very effective method for torture and interrogation," He smirked slightly at that. "But only a handful of witches are strong enough and skilled enough to pull it off. The witch that had you hostage used it to trap you in a mental prison."

Bonnie snorted. "She didn't do a very good job. I knew it wasn't real. If it had worked correctly, I'm guessing I shouldn't have been able to tell."

"Like I said, it's advanced magic and it takes an extraordinarily high level of magic control that very few witches ever master."

"How did you break me out of it?"

"Vastra's concentration was split between keeping you locked in your head, and fighting me off. A stronger sorceress may have been able to put me under the technique as well _while_ we duelled."

"So the victim isn't always necessarily unconscious?"

"Not at all. It can be very useful in a battle, because you can trick your opponent into making the wrong move."

Bonnie put the coffee down.

"You know for a _werewolf_, you sure do know a lot about magic." She couldn't help but smile at his surprised expression. "I could sense in your energy signature that you're something...not exactly human. But you have a pulse and you're walking out in the sun without a daylight ring so that rules out vampire. However the gun you gave me is loaded with silver bullets. Werewolf looks like a pretty safe bet. Am I wrong?"

He shook his head, admittedly impressed by her powers of deduction.

"You're a smart woman Miss Bennett."

"Obviously not that smart, since I'm driving around Virginia with a strange werewolf; whose _name I don't even know_," She said pointedly.

He smirked.

"It's Niklaus. But you can call me Klaus."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They were back on the road shortly after that conversation. Bonnie used his, _Klaus's, _cell phone to call her Grams and let her know that she was alright. Sheila was obviously worried and wouldn't be happy until she saw her granddaughter for herself. But Bonnie promised she would explain everything as soon as she was home.

She and Klaus had then settled into a relatively comfortable silence. Bonnie sipped her coffee and nibbled on her muffin. But she couldn't help stealing glances at the handsome werewolf.

This whole situation was so very strange. And in the past week and a half of dealing with some very strange things, that was saying something.

"Alright, out with it," Klaus broke the silence. "You look like you're about to burst. Obviously, you have questions. So ask."

Bonnie worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She had not expected him to be quite so blunt.

"How did you find me?" She said eventually.

"I found out from an old _acquaintance _that you were in trouble."

"Who?" Bonnie wondered who could possibly know that. And how.

She had only been taken last night, and the only people she had been with were Damon and Matt. Damon hadn't been around when they were attacked, and Matt certainly wouldn't have any connection to Klaus. So how did someone know she was in trouble?

"Just a contact. Someone who trades in information, you might say. Anyway, they told me about the warlock who was planning to come after you."

"Not Vastra and the other two?"

"I'm afraid they were just the foot soldiers, love. Not the commander general."

"But you know who _he_ is?"

"I have a name. _Tristan du Bois_. He's powerful and dangerous, but not much else is known about him. The man knows how to blend in. But all the witches in his employ seem to bear the same peculiar mark."

That got Bonnie's attention.

"A thin yellow coil inside a black spiral?" She hedged.

"You've seen it before," It wasn't a question. Klaus narrowed his eyes at her continued silence. "Bonnie?"

She waved him off. "You were still answering my question," She argued, ignoring Klaus's small – there was no other word for it – _growl _of irritation. "So this _mysterious _contact of yours told you a warlock was targeting me. That still doesn't explain how you knew where to find me."

"Smart and suspicious," He chuckled slightly.

"I _am _smart," Bonnie retorted. "So don't patronise me. Because people have died and now you tell me I've got a target on my back. So I'm not happy."

Klaus looked appropriately chastised.

"I apologise, Bonnie. Believe me, it is not my intention to be patronising. And I did agree to answer your questions. But would it be alright if you answered some things for me, afterwards?"

"I suppose that's fair."

"Thank you. Now, you were asking how I managed to find you?" At her nod, he continued. "It wasn't easy. I asked an old friend to do a summoning spell. Obviously, it wouldn't work since you were being held captive. But because she's also a Seer, my friend was able to summon a pretty accurate _vision_ of where you were being held, even though we couldn't physically summon you."

Bonnie nodded in acceptance of this explanation. She knew from her studies with Grams that some witches, who had the gift of foresight, could use a spell - like the summoning spell - in this way.

"I've never known a werewolf to be quite so friendly with witches before," She noted.

"As a matter of fact, my mother was a witch," Klaus told her. His expression clouded for a moment, and as he watched the road ahead, he seemed to stare at things only he could see. "But that is a story for another time," He said finally. "Suffice to say, you may find yourself losing those assumptions, about the simple nature of things supernatural. I know I did."

Bonnie looked at him curiously then. Klaus spoke with an odd sort of melancholy, the recollection of his revelations clearly bittersweet.

"Though for all that, I am surprised by how evenly you've taken the revelation, of my true nature as a werewolf. So, Miss Bennett. Have I passed?"

The young witch couldn't help the smile that tilted her lips.

"Just about. You haven't given me any reason not to believe you."

"Good. Then you would be comfortable telling me what you know about this mark of du Bois's?"

Bonnie nodded and sighed loudly.

"It started with Sheriff Forbes approaching a..." She hesitated, not sure how to categorise her relation to Damon, "...a sort of friend of mine about a supernatural incident. Last week, a member of the Town Council, Philip Ward, well apparently his daughter had been kidnapped by some vampire. Cut a long story short, we checked it out, tracked the vampire down. But it turned out the whole thing was a trap. The girl and the vamp were in on it, and we got ambushed by four warlocks for our trouble."

"And they all had that same _tattoo_," Klaus surmised.

"Afterwards, when it was all over, Sheriff Forbes confronted Mr. Ward. But he had no recollection of ever going to her; he didn't recall any of it! And when she asked to see the picture of his daughter again, it was a different girl."

"Tristan set you up."

"No kidding! What I want to know is why? That's the other thing. Last weekend, those four warlocks could have easily killed me. But they didn't. It was like they were toying with me."

"Not toying," Klaus said thoughtfully, his eyes on the road. "Tristan was testing you. That's why his first team of flying monkeys didn't kill you. They were studying you; learning the strengths and weaknesses of your magic. Then he sent the other witch to capture you."

"That's a lot of trouble to go to, just to kill me." Bonnie vaguely realised she should have been more disturbed by the idea of someone wanting her dead. But after the past year, she was used to people being out for her blood, sometimes literally. It was sad, but true.

"But that's just it, Bonnie. I don't think he means to kill you."

A chill ran down Bonnie's spine at those words. If it wasn't her death he wanted, then what? He meant to turn her into one of his drones? Brand her with his mark as though she were his property and force her into bondage? That would be worse than death!

Klaus must have sensed her distress.

"Bonnie, listen to me. We are going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you. With my life or death, I _will_ protect you."

Bonnie looked at Klaus then, _really_ looked at him.

He was a werewolf. She had known him only a few short hours. Trusted him when he told her to. And now he was promising to defend her from some rogue wizard. It was a situation she had never expected to be in, couldn't have even imagined. But the strangest part was that she believed him. She had nothing to go on but the last eight hours, most of which she'd been passed out in the front seat. But intuitively, she knew that he would do just what he said.

"Why?" She blurted out and then blushed when she realised she had spoken out loud. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It's just...why do you want to help me? You don't even know me," A sudden thought occurred to Bonnie then. "Or do you?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Have we met before?"

"Always so suspicious," Klaus chuckled. "You inherited that trait from your mother."

Bonnie gasped. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.

"You knew my mother?"

For a moment Klaus turned to look at her; meeting her gaze squarely before he replied.

"I knew your mother very well."

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2: <strong>So the plot thickens! I'm not too sure how I did with this chapter. It's predominantly two characters in a car, dialogue heavy, and I'm still getting used to writing Klaus. His back story, which you'll learn more about later, will be slightly different than it is on the actual show.

He's a werewolf in this story, not a hybrid. This too will be explained at a later stage. I wanted to have a strong werewolf character because they tend to be treated as inferior on TVD. And you got your first glimpse, kind of, of my original character, Tristan.

Finally, the illusionary technique described in this chapter is actually the Genjutsu technique used in the Naruto manga. I'll be drawing on ninja techniques used in the Naruto manga for Bonnie's magic. **No copyright intended.** When it comes to that stuff, **Masashi Kishimoto** is just way better at coming up with cool abilities!

As always, thanks for reading! Feedback is most welcome.


	3. What's Past is Prologue

**Author's note: Thanks so much everyone for your continued support! **

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>

**WHAT'S PAST IS PROLOGUE**

Bonnie was not even aware when they reached Mystic Falls.

If she had been, she might have questioned how Klaus seemed to know exactly in which house she lived, and the roads to take. But she was too preoccupied going over the things he had just told her.

Abby Bennett had died when Bonnie was just a baby and she had never known her father. Grams didn't speak much about her parents, and Bonnie never pressed for more. She figured it was too painful for Sheila to talk about the daughter she had lost.

She knew very little about her mother, but still, Bonnie was surprised to learn that Abby had been on friendly terms with a vampire and a werewolf...

"_It was many years ago," Klaus spoke wistfully. "Abby was living in New Orleans at the time, the very heart of wiccan culture and learning. She was the brightest witch of her age, - much like you, Bonnie - smart and inquisitive. Abby asked more questions than the Spanish Inquisition. Sound familiar?" Klaus looked at her pointedly and Bonnie smiled. _

"_And she was very suspicious of us," the werewolf continued._

"_Us?"_

"_My half-brother, Elijah, and I. He was actually the one who first went to Abby, trying to petition her help."_

"_What did he want her to do?"_

_Klaus swallowed hard and Bonnie couldn't help but notice the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel. Choking down his anger, he forced his voice to be detached and cool when he spoke._

"_I told you before that my mother was a witch," He began. "Esther was incredibly powerful. But she was also arrogant and selfish. She had an affair with a werewolf while she was still married to Elijah's father, and I was the result. Initially, she lied to both of us and tried to pass me off as my stepfather's natural son. But secrets like that seldom stay hidden." A vein began to throb in Klaus's neck and his eyes darkened dangerously._

"_My mother cursed me," He spat angrily. "When my stepfather learned the truth, she was so desperate to placate him, to ease her guilt, she tried to erase my lycanthrope genes."_

_The expression on Klaus's face was murderous. Bonnie had never felt such deep-seated revulsion, such undiluted __**hate**__. It was rolling off of Klaus in waves. She actually flinched and it wasn't even directed towards her._

"_Of course, the bitch over-estimated her abilities," Klaus continued darkly. "She was messing with natural laws beyond her comprehension. And she failed. Instead of erasing the genes, she only suppressed them, leaving me crippled. When a werewolf is not allowed to complete the transformation, it's like a fever than won't break. It just climbs higher and higher. Except, it's your soul, not your body, that burns. Can you imagine feeling every instinct, every urge, and being unable to relieve it? Like an itch you can't scratch, or the agony of a phantom limb that's pain is just as real, just as tangible as if it were in the flesh? It drove me to madness."_

_Bonnie remained silent, her jade eyes wide as she listened to Klaus's tale. She made a move as if she would touch him; just a small gesture of comfort. But at the look Klaus gave her, she hastily withdrew. _

"_I don't want you pitying me, Bonnie," He said, his voice hard._

"_I'm not," She replied quickly._

"_Good. Because that's not the reason I am telling you all this. I'm telling you because I want you to understand the role Abby played in my life. That is all."_

_She nodded in acquiescence and waited for Klaus to continue._

"_Even after my mother performed her little binding spell, it was clear my stepfather would never accept me. They cast me off and I ceased to be their son. Only my older half-brother stood by me. Elijah never stopped trying to help me, even when I was at my worst. It didn't matter how many times I pushed him away, how many times I tried to kill him in each lifetime. He didn't care that I had turned into a monster. And then one day, he told me that he thought he had found a witch he believed could undo Esther's binding curse."_

"_My mother," Bonnie surmised._

"_That's right. Of course, like any witch, she was taught to consider vampires and werewolves with equal distrust. And she was not easily convinced otherwise," Klaus smirked at the memory of the stubborn witch._

"_So what changed?"_

"_Elijah," Klaus smiled wistfully. "He was noble and charming as a human, even more so as a vampire."_

"_He didn't...seduce her?" Bonnie was suddenly alarmed. Remembering what happened to Caroline, the young witch knew that seduction and manipulation were part and parcel of a vampire's arsenal when they wanted something._

"_Of course not," Klaus answered immediately, yet something flickered in his expression._

"_Klaus..."_

"_I assure you, Bonnie. My brother only ever behaved honourably with Abigail. Besides, she would have set him on fire if he tried anything."_

_**Something else we have in common,**__ Bonnie thought wryly. Crepes flambé with a touch of vampire was her favourite threat to use with Damon. _

"_Some crazed witch in the French quarter, got the clever idea to unleash an ancient, soul-devouring god," Klaus was speaking again. "We had no choice but to work together if we wanted to survive. And well, there are some things you can't share without ending up friends. I suppose battling a parasitic, soul-sucking god is one of them."_

"_My mother fought that thing?"_

"_With everything she had. After that, she began to see that Elijah's intentions were not all evil. And she gave me the same chance. Even though I violently professed not to want it."_

"_She removed Esther's binding curse," Bonnie said smiling softly. Her heart swelled with pride thinking of the things her mother had accomplished._

"_She did. But it was more than that. There are few people I love; even fewer whom I think well of. Abby and Elijah saved my life. She was a dear friend to me. But I failed to protect her. You are all that is left of her now. And I don't intend to make the same mistake twice." _

"End of the line, love." Klaus was opening her door for her before Bonnie even realised he was out of the car. They were parked in Sheila's driveway.

"How did you know where I live?" She looked at him curiously.

Klaus shrugged.

"Good instincts," He said dismissively. "So you've been awfully quiet. I know I gave you a lot to think about."

Bonnie worried her lower lip between her teeth.

"Did you really mean what you said? About helping me?"

"Every word."

"Thank you, Klaus. For telling me about my mother and...everything else. I guess I'll see you when I see you?"

The werewolf nodded.

"I intend to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. Keep an eye on you until we find out more about this warlock. And there's some unfinished business I need to attend to."

The young witch frowned. This was the first time he mentioned that.

"What bus-"

"Bonnie!"

Sheila's voice cut across the lawn sharply.

"Grams!" She smiled at the sight of her grandmother standing on the front porch. The older witch, however, looked anything but pleased. Her gaze was fixed on Klaus, her expression tense. Slowly, Sheila made her way down the front steps, turning her attention to her granddaughter.

"Are you alright, baby," She said gently. Sheila took Bonnie's hands into her own. Her eyes rapidly scanned over her granddaughter, searching for any sign that she was hurt.

"I'm fine, Grams," She smiled. "I had help."

The two Bennett women turned to face Klaus, who had been silently watching their exchange.

"Grams, this is-"

"I know who he is," Sheila said, her voice suddenly cold. "Thank you for returning my granddaughter to me safely, _Niklaus_."

Klaus frowned. She may have said the words, but Sheila's thanks sounded an awful lot like a dismissal and the werewolf didn't appreciate it. He wanted to argue, but he caught Bonnie glancing curiously between him and her grandmother.

"Always a pleasure, Sheila," He said instead, biting back the retort on the tip of his tongue. But only just.

Neither of the trio moved, as though they were in some odd Mexican stand-off. It certainly felt that way to Bonnie. The tension between Klaus and her grandmother was palpable, and she half wondered who would draw first.

Sheila wound up breaking the strange stalemate.

"Bonnie, I'd like you to go inside please," She said calmly.

"Grams –"

"You should probably call your friends. Matt and Caroline have been asking about you. I'm sure they'd like to know you're alright."

"I guess," Still, Bonnie hesitated. "Grams, is everything alright?" She asked warily.

"Everything's just fine, baby," Sheila gave her granddaughter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go on inside. I'll be there in a minute."

Bonnie finally relented, giving Klaus a small smile before she headed into the house. As soon as she was safely inside, Sheila started.

"What did you think you were doing with my granddaughter, Klaus?"

He shook his head.

"I see some things never change," He chuckled mirthlessly. "The Bennett pride rears its head again. That didn't take long."

"You've got some nerve. After everything that happened..."

The werewolf immediately sobered.

"You act as though I want to hurt Bonnie. I know you've never liked me Sheila, but the one thing we've always shared is our desire to protect our blood."

"Exactly. And the further away she is from you and your family, the better off she'll be!"

Klaus's jaw hardened. The cupid's bow of his lips set in a grim line, like the mouth of an executioner or saint.

"That may have been true before," He replied, "But things have changed."

Sheila's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Klaus idly thought that glare must be hereditary. He'd received it from three generations of Bennett women now.

XXX

Bonnie had to hold the phone away from her ear as Caroline's shrieks echoed down the line.

"_Oh My GOD! Bonnie?! Is that you?"_

"It's me, Care, really."

"_Oh my God! How are you? Where are you? Oh it's so good to hear your voice. How are you? Are you okay? What happened, Bonnie?" _

Bonnie smiled to herself at the effusive blonde's rambling.

"_Maybe she'd have an answer for you, Blondie, if you actually shut up long enough to let her talk."_

She frowned at the familiar voice arguing in the background.

"_Go blow a goat, Damon!"_ Caroline snapped back, confirming Bonnie's suspicions.

"_Sorry, your dad's not my type." _

On the other end of the line, Caroline made an indignant noise and then there was the sound of some sort of scuffle and a lot of expletives.

"Care, are you still there?"

"_Bonnie? It's Stefan,"_ the younger Salvatore's dulcet tones came on the line. _"Caroline's a little...uh...busy."_

Bonnie could hear Caroline telling off the other vampire, _"You are such a dick!"_

"_Never mind them right now,"_ Stefan sounded weary and Bonnie could just picture the long suffering expression on his face._ "Are you alright? Do you need us to come get you?" _

"No, no. I'm fine. Actually, I'm home. I just got back. I don't have my phone anymore, so I'm calling from Grams' cell. That's why Caroline didn't recognise the number."

"_You're home? Matt said the two of you were attacked. He woke up and you were gone."_

Bonnie sighed.

"Yeah, it's kind of a long story. But I just wanted to let you guys know I'm okay; a little tired, after everything. But..."

"_I can imagine. Well I'm glad you're safe Bonnie. You had us worried there for a minute. Don't worry about filling us in. Just get some rest and take care of yourself, ok?" _He said kindly.

"Thanks Stefan."

The vampire didn't say anything for a minute then,

"_Oh, Caroline wants me to tell you that Tyler's having one of his keg parties in Mystic Woods tonight. If you're up for it, of course."_

"_Stefan, she was just kidnapped,"_ that was Elena. _"She's hardly going to be in the mood to..."_

"No, that actually sounds like a plan," Bonnie drew the vampire's attention back to her. "Tell Elena to stop being such a worry wart," She could hear Stefan chuckle slightly. "I'm planning on sleeping the rest of today anyway, so I'll be fine to go out tonight. And then I can tell you guys what happened."

Bonnie said her goodbyes and hung up, but not before she heard Caroline's shriek of delight as Stefan relayed her answer and Damon's sardonic voice murmur in response,

"_Next time, Elena, leave your pets at home."_

She rolled her eyes at their antics and then realised that between Matt and then Caroline, she'd been on the phone for ten minutes and Grams was still outside.

Peering through the front curtains, Bonnie spotted Sheila and Klaus in the middle of a very intense conversation. She frowned. Her grandmother had been eager to get rid of her earlier, and despite thanking him, Sheila had been nothing but hostile towards Klaus. Curious, Bonnie slipped out and made her way as quietly as possible to the front garden, close to where they were still standing in the driveway. Not wanting to be seen, she was careful to stay hidden behind the shrubbery so she could eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Does he know?" Sheila asked.

"I can't be sure. She says she didn't tell him. But those words don't mean much coming from her mouth," Klaus ran a hand over his face, his expression grim. "Look, let me worry about Mikael. You have to talk to Bonnie. She needs to know."

"I've looked after my granddaughter for the past eighteen years. I think I know best what _she needs_."

Klaus released an exasperated breath. He had forgotten how stubborn Sheila could be.

"Bonnie is an intelligent girl. Do you think she's not going to notice that she's _different_? That she doesn't suspect something already?"

"And of course you had _nothing_ to do with _**that**_," Sheila snapped.

Klaus growled. He wasn't a patient man, and the urge to choke the older Bennett witch until she saw things his way was very tempting. He clenched his fists. Sheila didn't even blink.

"I told Bonnie about my friendship with Abby," He gritted out. "I didn't say anything to her about her father."

A flicker of movement near the front porch seemed to catch Klaus's attention then, but when he looked up no one was there.

_Stealthy little witch_, he thought wryly, _but no match for the keen senses of a werewolf_.

He stepped in closer towards Sheila and lowered his voice.

"I think it's best if we end this conversation; we're in danger of being overheard," He glanced discreetly back towards the house and Sheila's eyes widened in understanding.

"I will help Bonnie in any way I can," He said, stepping back once more. "But she should know the truth. Tell her Sheila. Before she finds out some other way."

XXX

She was lying on her bed.

Her Grimoire rested on her stomach as she concentrated on levitating a few books and some items from her dressing table.

She had floated the objects away and towards her, up and down, even managed to turn the pages of the books, and open and close the caps on the bottles of nail polish. Now she was attempting to keep the objects suspended in the air.

After ten minutes, the items dropped unceremoniously to the ground and Bonnie narrowly escaped being whacked on the nose by her copy of _Bleak House_.

That was better than her previous attempt, but nowhere near her usual power. Typically, Bonnie could leave objects suspended in mid-air indefinitely. But Klaus had warned her that the illusionary juju she'd been under would leave her feeling drained and tired for a day or two.

She was obviously still feeling its effects. However, that wasn't the only thing messing with her ability to concentrate. Bonnie had been replaying the conversation between Klaus and Grams in her head.

When Sheila came into the house, she had been quiet and evasive. Any time Bonnie tried to bring up Klaus and the conversation she had overheard, Sheila clammed up, eventually telling Bonnie that maybe they ought to have a little less chatter at the dinner table.

Bonnie's mood had promptly soured. Sheila had never spoken to her so curtly before and the rest of lunch had been a quiet, tense affair. She had excused herself, saying she wanted to take a nap before she went out tonight. That had caught Sheila's attention.

"_Bonnie, I actually don't want you going out tonight."_

"_But I already told Stefan and everyone I would be there."_

"_I'm sure they'll understand. Please Bonnie. I've been out of my mind with worry since Matt told me you'd been taken. I just want one night where I know you're safe at home," Sheila explained._

_Bonnie had softened at this. However, she really wanted to see her friends so she tried for a compromise._

"_What if I just went for half an hour? I just want to see that Matt's okay and say a quick hello to Caroline, she's-"_

"_Bonnie, I said no! Matt is perfectly fine and I'm sure Caroline will survive one night without you. You're not going out tonight, and that's an end to it."_

Bonnie rolled over on her side, frowning. She knew Sheila was likely still upset over her near-successful kidnapping. But she was being unusually short with Bonnie and even more protective than usual.

Klaus's words echoed in her head.

"_I didn't tell her anything about her father."_

"_She should know the truth."_

What was Grams hiding from her? She had told her that Abby never revealed who Bonnie's father was. That was obviously a lie.

What else was she being lied to about? And if Grams knew who her father was, why keep it from her? And what did Klaus have to do with any of it? He and Sheila had apparently made some reluctant pact years ago to protect Bonnie. But protect her from what?

There were too many questions and not enough answers.

She pressed her fingertips against her closed eyes, feeling a dull throb at the back of her head; the beginnings of a headache.

_Rap! Rap!_

Bonnie startled at the knock on her window. She scrambled to the edge of her mattress, forgetting she was already there, and yelped as she promptly fell off the bed.

She hurried over and flung her curtains open.

"Matt!" He was sitting on the tree branch near her window.

"You okay there, Bon?"

"I uh...I fell off the bed," She mumbled, embarrassedly. Matt burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!"

"It's hilarious! You'll face off with vampires without a second thought, but a knock on your window sends you falling on your butt in fright! Only you, Bon," He continued chuckling.

"You didn't scare me," She argued, "I was surprised. And keep your voice down, my Grams will hear!" Even as she pretended to chastise him, Bonnie couldn't help the corner of her lips from quirking up at the picture she must have made. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I was elected to come find you, since Caroline's been nagging about where you are."

Bonnie, frowned recalling the argument with her Grams.

"I'm actually grounded for the night," She said. "Grams doesn't want me leaving the house."

"Yeah, I kind of figured. I knocked at the front door first and she wasn't exactly pleased to see me. Told me you were sleeping. This is why I'm currently re-enacting the balcony scene from Romeo & Juliet – minus the balcony." Matt shifted uncomfortably on his perch.

Bonnie smiled at his quip.

"Sorry about that. She's been acting really strange since I got back."

"You were kidnapped, Bonnie. I don't think you can blame her for being a little anxious."

"It's more than that though."

"Well, you can tell me all about it on the way," He said.

"What?"

"This is a rescue mission, Bon. Climb out of your tower princess and your knight's chariot awaits you."

"I thought you were Romeo?" Bonnie retorted wryly.

"_Potatoe, potato,_ let's go Bon."

"Matt, I can't. Grams..."

He arched an eyebrow at her knowingly.

"We both know, on the list of things you've done without your Grams' permission, this is pretty minor."

She couldn't argue with that. Besides, Sheila had grounded her tonight for seemingly no reason. And she'd refused to talk to her about anything. Well, Bonnie could have secrets too then. Feeling a sudden desire for rebellion, she nodded, her mind made up.

"Alright, I'll come," Matt smiled at her response. "Just let me grab my shoes."

XXX

It was the screams that woke her.

Vastra bolted out of bed at the commotion she could hear outside her doors. She wasn't surprised to see the imposing figure in her living room, eyes shining in the gloom as he stood over the body of her housekeeper. The woman's heart was still beating but she was unconscious. He must be feeling generous this evening.

"So this is what's become of the great Vastra," the warlock sneered. "I find her cowering in this hick town, when she should have met me at the border."

"Tristan please..."

"Where is the Bennett witch?" He was straight to the point.

"I...I lost her," Even in the dark she couldn't meet his gaze.

Tristan smiled cheerlessly.  
>"You lost her," He repeated, his voice dangerously low. "You, a high priestess of the old order, were defeated by...how did you describe her? Oh yes, 'a witch who's practically still teething, her powers are in their infancy'. And you expect to be worthy of my seal. How the mighty have fallen."<p>

At that insult, the witch seemed to regain some of her courage.

"I would have had her, if you hadn't sent me in blindly. I didn't expect the werewolf to come for her," She seethed.

That seemed to pique Tristan's interest.

"Then the rumours are true. His presence confirms it."

He moved to sit in the large armchair. A quick glance at the empty fireplace and a moment later, a glorious blaze filled the hearth.

"Then...you are not angry with me?" Vastra hedged.

"Oh I'm furious. But we can't chat _after _I've killed you," He spoke nonchalantly and the witch blanched.

"I can still be of use to you," She said urgently. "I wish only to please you. I would do anything."

Tristan cocked his head, like a hawk eyeing his prey. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

"You are quite beautiful when you beg. But it is unnecessary. Just this once, I am willing to admit that perhaps I acted too hastily in going after the Bennett girl."

Vastra released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. With the danger seemingly over, she felt confident enough to approach him. The only light in the room came from the fire; casting his handsome features in silhouette: the firm line of his jaw and the aristocratic arch of his nose.

"So what do you plan to do next?" She said.

"I think it's time, I met Miss Bennett in person."

"You plan to go to Mystic Falls?"

"Tomorrow," Tristan confirmed.

"I'll be ready to leave at first light then."

"Oh my beautiful idiot," His gaze was almost sympathetic. ""You will not see tomorrow."

"What are you talking about?" She watched nervously as he stalked towards her like a panther.

"I can forgive your failure to capture the Bennett witch," He began. "But I can't forgive your cowardice – it's unbecoming of a high priestess."

_Buthed gwared, hrag pob ailed, hrag pob evnis boyd un thilis._

"Tristan, stop!"

"Have we not always been honest with each other?"

_Buthed gwared, hrag pob ailed, hrag pob evnis boyd un thilis._

"Please!" She screamed in agony as his magic began to take hold.

"I always told you, you would know when I was threatening you..."

"Don't!"

_Buthed gwared, hrag pob ailed, hrag pob evnis boyd un thilis._

"...well, now you know."

He was standing right in front of her now.

Vastra was helpless against him. Her mouth froze in a silent scream as Tristan plunged his dagger into her heart and she crumpled to the ground, his limpid grey eyes the last thing she saw.

Tristan stepped over the witch, his damp coat trailing across her corpse carelessly. The fire in the hearth had begun to do its job as he felt the chill begin to lift from his bones. Rummaging through the liquor cabinet, he helped himself to the snifter of brandy. The first glass, he poured out; a libation for the dead witch. The second, he raised in a toast.

"Till tomorrow then, Bonnie Bennett," He swallowed the alcohol, relishing the slight burn, "The battle for your soul is about to begin."

XXX

Bonnie stared at the faces watching her in rapt silence as she finished her tale. Elena wore her perpetual look of woe; Matt gave her a sympathetic smile; Stefan was brooding; Jeremy looked bewildered, and Damon promptly knocked back another bottle of beer.

"So let me get this straight," Caroline, in typical fashion, was the first to find her voice. "This Tristan guy is trying to recruit you or something, which includes giving you a personalized tattoo. He's also the same guy who sent a bunch of warlocks after you and Damon during your mysterious road trip, which, by the way, you still haven't given us the details of, and since when do you and Damon go all _Bonnie & Clyde_?"

"It's not important," Bonnie said dismissively.

"Ouch, Bon-bon," Damon laid a hand over his heart mockingly, "that hurts."

"Can it, bloodsucker."

"_Anyway_," Caroline interjected, "now some _werewolf_ has decided to be your personal guardian angel. And he's gonna protect you from this Tristan guy."

"So he _claims_," Damon murmured snidely.

Bonnie's eyes snapped to the vampire.

"What have you got against werewolves?" She demanded.

"You mean, aside from the _minor thing_ that those overgrown dogs, just so happen to be the one thing in the world that can kill me? Nothing," Damon took another drag on his beer, wishing it was bourbon. "I just find it funny that, _Judgey_ here, after spending only _a couple of hours_ with White Fang; you're so willing to trust him."

In truth, he didn't find it funny.

At all.

Damon was pissed. For months, he had been trying to win Bonnie over. He had never spent so much effort on a woman he _wasn't_ trying to sleep with before.

After their little expedition last weekend, he thought they had turned a corner. But no, for some reason, she seemed to hate him even more than before; taking his head off over every little thing.

But the werewolf just shows up, saves her from Lord Voldemort's minions, and he's suddenly her new best friend.

It was like a slap in the face. And he couldn't help but be reminded of all those moments he'd been passed over, told he was _unworthy_, and been made to feel second-best.

"Klaus hasn't given me a reason not to trust him," She retorted.

"Because he told you some sob story about being besties with your mum, back in the day?"

The minute the words left his mouth, Damon knew it was a mistake. Bonnie's eyes turned the most brilliant shade of emerald. She could feel her ire rising, the events of the last few hours finally taking its toll and her turbulent emotions began to spill over. She needed an outlet. And picking a fight with Damon was as good as it would get.

"_No_. I trust him, because he actually lives up to his word," She spat. "Unlike _some people_, _who pretend _they want to protect me, and then try to rip my throat out!"

"Guys-" Stefan tried to intervene.

"Are you still singing that same old song?"

"Bonnie, it _was_ a year ago," Elena spoke up now. "Damon was different then. And he has been _trying_."

"Yeah, trying to get into your pants," Bonnie said bluntly. "But whatever," She ignored Elena's shocked gasp. "You would take his side."

Damon smirked.

"Jealous, witchy?"

"Of what exactly? I happen to like men _with a backbone_," Bonnie emphasized, "not a pathetic _push-over_ who let's himself get taken for a ride." She let her eyes crawl over his face, making a point to curl her lip in disgust and convey how repellent she found him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Damon's eyes were doing their crazy widening thing and there was a dangerous edge to his voice.

Bonnie suddenly felt tired. As quickly as it had come, the fight went out of her. And she just didn't care anymore.

"Forget it," She shrugged, getting to her feet. Bonnie turned her back on Damon and addressed the rest of the group. "I'm gonna take a walk, clear my head." Without waiting for a response, the young witch stepped out of their little circle and headed into the woods.

An awkward silence settled on the rest of the group.

"Well, that was interesting," Caroline said finally. She spared a glance at the elder Salvatore. The vampire looked ready to throttle someone.

"Damon..." The words died on Stefan's lips as his brother suddenly shot up and took off into the woods after the witch. Stefan sighed.

"Is it a good idea for them to be alone?" Elena wondered; her doe eyes wide. "Maybe we should go after them."

Stefan arched an eyebrow at his former girlfriend.

"What exactly are you worried about happening?"

The pretty brunette blushed.

"I wasn't...I didn't mean..."

Stefan gave her a dismissive wave. "Don't bother," He shrugged and then asked Matt if he was up for a game of catch. As the two boys wandered off, Caroline decided to go find Tyler. She hadn't seen her boyfriend in the past half hour. This left the two Gilbert siblings to sit awkwardly on their own.

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2: <strong>Phew! This was a monster of a chapter. Lots of Klaus exposition, Tristan's first appearance, the MF gang, and a Bamon argument.

Speaking of which, I hope Bonnie and Damon's fight wasn't too over the top. The characters just took on a life of their own and I ran with it.

Finally, Tristan's chant. I have no idea what it actually means. I lifted it from a wiki page on the Merlin series. Also, Klaus's line about "some things you can't share without ending up friends", is me borrowing J.K. Rowling's line from _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_. No copyright infringement intended.

**Up next chapter:** Bonnie's first big revelation, a twisted family reunion of sorts, and some brawling vampires. Hope I can do it justice! Thanks for reading. Review if you feel like it ;).


	4. Bad Blood

**Author's Note: **Thank you, lovely reviewers, for taking the time to comment. I really enjoy getting to hear what you think about the story. Your encouraging words definitely help keep me motivated. To all my readers, thank you so much for your continued interest, patience and support. Happy 2015 everyone!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>

**BAD BLOOD**

Bonnie wondered, not for the first time, how she managed to get herself into these situations. _The situation_ being, she was currently pinned against a tree by an irate vampire.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She demanded.

Damon's eyes were wild and she was sure his grip was going to leave bruises.

"You don't get to avoid me this time, Judgey," He spat.

"Let go of me, Damon."

"What's the matter," He leaned in slightly, his voice low and dangerous in her ear. "You were so eager to cast aspersions on my manliness before. It's only fair I get the chance to prove otherwise," He leered at her.

The witch scoffed and tried to ignore the way she could feel the hard planes of his chest pressing against her. Damon would crowd your space as a way of making the world that was large seem miniature. Unfortunately for him, Bonnie's courage always rose with every attempt to intimidate her.

"You think this little show is going to impress me?" She retorted. "All the nauseating evidence still points to the fact you are completely castrated."

To drive the point home, Bonnie brought her knee up sharply. Damon shifted just in time, thanks to his vampire reflexes, and she ended up hitting his thigh instead of her intended target.

The vampire practically shot daggers at her with his gaze.

"You should know better than to think you're stronger than me," He spoke through his teeth. "I wouldn't try that again."

"What are you going to do about it?" Bonnie challenged. "I already know the answer. You'll do nothing. Because it would upset _Elena_. And everyone knows she's got you on a leash. You're like a lost puppy, licking at her heels, desperate to accept any measly scraps she'll throw you. It's pathetic."

Damon's grip on her tightened painfully but Bonnie forced herself not to react. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"That's rich coming from the girl who's got her own werewolf as a pet," He sneered.

"Make snide comments as much as you like, Damon. It's not going to change my opinion of you," Her expression turned curious. "Why do you care, anyway? What does _my opinion _matter to you?"

Damon hesitated. _Why did he care_?

He could fool himself that it was because of Elena. The witch was her friend so he would try to play nice with her. But then so was Caroline, and Damon had no problem being a complete prick to her. He had never even bothered to apologise to the blonde cheerleader for what he did to her. Yet with Bonnie, he had wanted to try for a truce, a clean slate after his horrendous first impression. Bonnie was different. For reasons he didn't want to examine too closely yet.

"Damon?"

He didn't like the way she seemed to be studying him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Her clever, annoying, little witchy brain was devising a plan of attack, getting ready to win this round.

He couldn't have that.

Damon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a crushing, sarcastic retort, but he didn't get the chance.

He and Bonnie froze as a far too familiar scream sliced through the night air. Looking into her eyes; deep emerald pools, wide with alarm, Damon knew they were thinking the same thing.

_That sounded like Caroline._

XXXX

A groan from the blonde form crumpled on the ground alerted them to the fact that Caroline was still conscious.

"Are you alright?" Bonnie frowned when she saw the cut on her friend's forehead. Moving her hand over the wound, her eyes flashed gold and then a soft blue light emerged from her fingertips. A few seconds later, the bleeding had stopped and Caroline only felt a dull ache, where before there had been a searing pain.

"You have healing powers?" She asked in awe.

"No," The teenage witch shook her head. She immediately regretted the action as her vision swam for a moment. "I just know some basic healing spells." She got to her feet, stumbling slightly and Damon moved quickly to steady her.

"Easy, there Judgey," He peered down at her. "You good?"

"I'm fine," Damon frowned at the way she shoved him away from her, but turned his attention to more urgent matters.

"Caroline, I'm assuming you didn't bash your own head into that tree," He said bluntly. "So what the hell happened?"

The blonde girl didn't answer straight away. Then a look of stark realisation swept over her features.

"Tyler," She said, panic creeping into her voice. "There were two of them. Two vampires. One attacked me and the other took Tyler."

"They were after Lockwood?"

"You're half right."

Three heads whipped round at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. A young man, who looked about Damon's age, approached the trio. His sable eyes fixed intently on Bonnie.

"That's him," Caroline unconsciously took a step closer to Damon. "He attacked me."

The dark-haired vampire smirked at the blonde teenager. "Consider yourself lucky. I could have done far worse. But my business is not with you tonight," He turned back to the teenage witch. His expression was emotionless. His eyes, however, turned bright crimson and Bonnie shuddered. The killing intent coming from this vampire was so strong she thought she might choke on it.

It was the only cue Damon needed. Fangs bared, black veins visible, revealing his own predator visage, the elder Salvatore charged their opponent. This proved to be a mistake. Caroline shrieked in fright as Damon was sent flying backwards, hitting his back against a tree some ten feet away.

"Caroline, get out of here," Bonnie urged.

"What about you?"

"Please Care, just go!" Thankfully, the blonde cheerleader seemed to recognise her urgency and did as she was told.

The enemy vampire was advancing on Damon, who was taking a lot longer to recover from the blow than usual.

"Is that all you've got? How disappointing."

With a swift movement he had Damon by the throat, raising him to eye level as he tightened his grip on the raven-haired vampire.

"Let him go!" Bonnie's voice echoed loudly in the stillness of the wood; her eyes flashed gold. Thousands of hot needles pierced through the vampire's skull and stars burst through his vision. He let out a strangled cry and dropped Damon, who immediately started coughing and sputtering.

Bonnie, however, was struggling to sustain the attack. Either she was still weakened from the effects of her mental prison, or he was a much more powerful vampire than she had ever faced before. She was alarmed when he straightened up suddenly, his features disconcertingly calm, and his gaze fixed on her. "Nice trick. But you'll have to do better than that," His voice was low, yet she was able to hear him as though he were shouting.

The strange vampire let his eyes travel the length of her body, taking in her wind-swept hair, baggy sweater, and worn jeans. He sniffed and didn't look impressed.

"You carry the stench of _her_ all over you. The Bennett whore that turned my treacherous brother. Tell me Miss Bonnie, would you like to see your mother? Because I will gladly move you closer to her."

The teenage witch trembled and she could feel herself slightly swaying on her feet.

Damon, now back on his feet, attempted a sneak attack from behind. He didn't even see his opponent move, but suddenly his wrists were in an iron grip and he was wrenched forward. The vampire slammed him face first into the grass, pining his arms behind him in one smooth motion. He was pretty sure the bastard broke his nose.

"You are far too slow," the vampire said, as though he were chastising a naughty school boy.

"Modus!" Bonnie cried. Their enemy was thrown several feet backwards, but it barely slowed him down, and he came barrelling towards her again.

She managed to block a well placed kick to the temple, which seemed to surprise them both. But Bonnie let her guard drop a moment too long. The vampire landed a hard punch against her abdomen as he backed her up against a tree. Bonnie doubled over in pain. Her arms hugged her stomach and Damon cursed as he noticed her cough up a small amount of blood.

It was a miracle, frankly, that the little witch was still standing. But Damon knew she could not withstand the assault much longer. He shot forward, intending to intercept the bastard's next strike. Azure eyes locked with jade and Bonnie's eyes widened. With a growl that could hardly be considered human, Damon pushed himself off the tree that Bonnie had been pinned against. The muscles in his back screamed in pain, protesting the movement, but he fought against it turning to focus on his enemy. But he wasn't there.

There was a rush of wind and his opponent was suddenly tackled backwards by another force.

Klaus threw a flurry of attacks on the vampire, who could only block the rampage of punches and kicks. Damon held Bonnie against his side, letting her lean on him while he leaned against the tree. Neither of them gave any thought to their closeness, too preoccupied with the sparring match taking place. In all the years of his immortal life, the elder Salvatore had never seen a fight like this. The speed, the agility, the strength...even with his enhanced vampire vision, he was having a hard time following every single attack the two supernatural creatures were making. They moved so quickly, they almost seemed to 'disappear' and 'reappear'.

"You think you can _attack_ those I love, without consequence?!" Klaus thundered and Damon felt Bonnie shudder against him. Klaus was so enraged; his desire to kill, to maim, so strong, it was as if it were a physical thing.

The vampire went flying across the clearing, skidding on his heels a few feet before he came to a stop. Klaus charged after him. "You betrayed Elijah!" He staggered back as Klaus landed an unexpected blow to his shoulder. "You _murdered _Abby!" Klaus slammed his fist into the vampire's chest with enough force to break a few ribs, "and now, you think that you can come after Bonnie!"

"You finally get it," the vampire smirked despite being in a lot of pain. "Do what you want with me; you're still going to fail, just like you failed eighteen years ago. You couldn't save Elijah's whore then, and you can't save his child now!"

The vampire's crimson eyes snapped to Bonnie and the witch gasped, realization breaking over her like a wave. Damon had to physically restrain her as she tried to charge at the other two supernatural beings.

"You're lying!" She cried out, still fighting against Damon's grip.

"Am I?" He choked out through Klaus's tightening hold. "Tell her, _Uncle _Klaus."

Bonnie looked to the werewolf, desperately searching his face for some sign that the vampire's words were false. But the thing she had been praying not to see flickered in his eyes.

A guilty acknowledgement.

Bonnie stiffened in Damon's grasp. She felt a chill come over her as she started recalling voices out of her memory.

_Do you think she's not going to notice that she's different? _

_My half-brother, Elijah... He was actually the one who first went to Abby..._

_You carry the stench of her all over you. The Bennett whore that turned my treacherous brother._

She couldn't breathe.

_I told Bonnie about my friendship with Abby...I didn't say anything to her about her father._

_So what changed?_

_Elijah._

Her chest tightened painfully, her mouth felt dry as cotton. Bonnie had no protection against the well of emotions storming through her.

_Tell her Sheila. Before she finds out some other way._

"Holy shit!" Damon cried jumping back as the row of trees behind them suddenly burst into flame. Lightning streaked across the sky and the earth started to tremble beneath them. Both Klaus and the vampire were knocked off their feet. Using Klaus's distraction, the vampire threw the werewolf off him before tearing away into the surrounding darkness.

Klaus started to go after him but Damon's voice stopped him.

"Bonnie!" The raven-haired vampire was calling to the witch. She was standing about a foot away and seemingly oblivious to the destruction taking place around her. Bonnie was so tightly coiled with tension that Klaus feared she might shatter from it. He was by her side in an instant.

"Bonnie!" His voice was low, sharp and commanding. "You need to calm down."

The witch struggled to focus on him. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she struggled for control, refusing to let them fall. She could feel a strong hand moving up and down her back soothingly, and a voice softly commanded her to breathe. The crushing weight on her chest finally started to ease and her gaze flickered to his concerned sea-green eyes. Her eyes flashed gold briefly and just as quickly as it had started, the flames disappeared and everything went still.

"Bonnie..."

"Tell me," She spoke, proud of the fact that her voice didn't shake. "I need to hear the words, Klaus. I need to hear you _say it_."

He pressed his lips together. Didn't answer.

She waited, her heart pounding, a splinter of ice down her spine, her fingers trembling so badly she twisted them together in front of her.

"Have you ever heard the name Mikaelson?" He said finally.

"Don't change the subject, Klaus." Bonnie wished she weren't quite so shaky. Wished she weren't so tired that she felt like she might fall over.

"I'm not," He said earnestly. "You've asked me about your father; you want to know who he is. Then you need to understand his family."

XXXX

There were only murmurs at first. A low rumble, definitely male. A soft, hushed voice, and definitely female, uttering a repetitive chant. His back arched as an excruciating pain intensified in his chest and his eyes snapped open; dark orbs moving wildly, unseeing, in an effort to deal with the pain as well as determine where he was and _who_ was with him.

Tyler tried to get his mind to focus. At first it looked like a dark blob and he had to blink a few times until the film coating his eyes receded. Finally getting his body to co-operate with his mind, the blurry image separated into two distinct figures.

He was sitting on a chair, unrestrained, yet his limbs felt so heavy and numb he doubted he would be able to move his body, even if he wanted to. The room he was in most closely resembled a basement. It was lit only by candles and smelled strongly of wet dust. A veiled woman was chanting over what looked like a stone basin, engraved with unusual markings. The material obscured her features but he did catch a glimpse of auburn hair and noticed that the amulet she wore was glowing.

The man, no more than twenty five years of age, stood before him. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair falling around his jaw. His posture was that of a soldier. Tyler recognised him as one of the vampires that had attacked him and Caroline.

"So you're awake." He could hear the pleased smirk in the vampire's voice. He crouched down so that he and Tyler were level; his charcoal eyes, cold like a fish, boring into his captive. They held the promise of pain, torture and eventual death in their intense gaze.

"You..." The teenager started hoarsely, but that was all he was able to get out before being overcome by a violent coughing fit. Tyler was vaguely aware of some shuffling beside him before he felt the rim of a cup placed against his lips. He accepted the offering, drinking thirstily.

"What have you done with Caroline?" He bit out harshly, as though he had swallowed sand.

"That's not how this is going to work. _I_ ask the questions and you're going to tell me _exactly _what I want to know."

"I'm not telling _you_ anything, arsehole," Tyler spat with disgust.

Instead of being offended, the vampire smiled. A hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head back.

"You are in no position to challenge me," He murmured. "Your uncle tried that. It didn't end too well for him. So I'll offer you this single warning, because I was brought up to be polite. _Don't _test my patience, Mr. Lockwood."

XXXX

Bonnie didn't know how long she had been walking. Her clothes were soaked through, the hem of her jeans caked with dirt; her hair beginning to curl and stick to her face. It had started raining not long after she left Klaus and Damon in the woods. Ignoring their cries for her to come back, Bonnie had stumbled blindly through the woods and somehow reached the main road. She ignored the sharp, stabbing pain in her ribs each time she exhaled, half welcoming it; a reminder of her physical vulnerability that was very human; that _she_ was _human_.

_Only, I'm not. Not anymore._

It was the cruellest irony. To find out she was the very thing she had always loathed, distrusted. Bonnie blinked hard as her vision started to blur, unsure whether it was from her tears or the rain. The bright head lights of an oncoming car appeared and she moved closer to the shoulder of the road. Instead of passing her as she had expected, the car drew to a stop. When the driver emerged, Bonnie understood why.

"Have you lost your senses completely?! What are you doing out on the road in this state?"

Her grandmother climbed out of the car, umbrella in hand, her expression wavering between annoyance and concern as she looked at her young granddaughter. Bonnie stared back at her numbly. Her chartreuse eyes, usually bright with defiance or dancing with mirth, were now suspicious and distrusting.

"I could ask you the same question," She said finally. Sheila's gaze narrowed.

"Do not sass me, young lady. I haven't forgotten that you disobeyed me tonight. And given everything that's happened you should have listened to me. Klaus called," Her grandmother answered Bonnie's unasked question.

"Then you know why I don't want to be around you, or anyone else right now," Bonnie said coldly.

"So what's your plan? You're gonna walk all the way to town in a rainstorm?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Bonnie, get in the car. Now. You are being _irrational_."

The younger witch released a strange sound. Her face changed and her coldness exploded into a burst of heated rage.

"_Irrational_?!" She made an outraged gesture with her hands. "My _father, _is a _vampire!_ His brothers, my_ uncles_, tried to kill me and my friends tonight. And his werewolf half-brother, also my uncle, protected us. And now I am this weird vampire-witch-hybrid...this..._abomination_! That by rights, shouldn't even exist! But here I am! _Nothing_ about this is _rational_! And you've been lying to me about all of it, this whole time!"

"Bonnie, we cannot have this conversation here-"

"Would we _ever _have had this conversation?" Bonnie spoke over her grandmother. "Were you ever going to tell me about Elijah Mikaelson and my mother, or was I just going to walk into the sun one day and burst into flames, and that would be it."

"Don't say such things..."

"...or maybe I would suddenly start snacking on other co-eds and then the big secret would be out. At what point were you going to stop lying to me about what I am..."

"Bonnie, please..."

"...or are you nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!"

"That is _enough!_" Sheila's voice cracked like a whip. "You are angry and upset, but I am _still _your grandmother, _Bonnie Alexandra Bennett_, and you will show me some respect!"

Bonnie didn't say anything but she was practically shaking with the force of her stormy emotions. Her mind was like an engine, racing out of control. _What am I?_ came the thought. _Who am I now? What is my purpose? What do I feel now? _The bitter sense of betrayal twisted in her gut, like a knife. How many times had her grandmother warned her against the danger of vampires, that they were no friend to humans; certainly not to a Bennett witch; and they should not be trusted. Grams had told her this, knowing full well the truth of her own granddaughter's vampire heritage.

"I never meant for you to find out like this," Sheila continued. "And I did keep the truth from you. But what's done cannot be undone. I know you don't want to believe me right now, Bonnie, but I do love you. And I've only ever tried to do what was best for you. You can hate me, you can be pissed at me. But I am _not _going to let you _bury_ yourself just to prove something to me. If you want to know why I did what I did, know about your parents, then you will get your butt in this car and let me take you home. That's your choice," Her grandmother's tone was uncompromising at best.

Bonnie felt her jaw clench and she had to force out her reply.

"Fine," She said tightly. Disregarding everything except the fact that Grams had agreed to tell her the truth, Bonnie climbed into the front seat slamming the door shut.

XXXX

The ride back to the Bennett house had been silent. Bonnie had stared resolutely out the window, and Sheila had been focused on her driving. The rain wasn't falling as heavily, but it was still enough that she had needed to be on alert.

Bonnie was a little calmer by the time they arrived at the house, though still visibly upset. But she did let Sheila help her wash up and treat her injury with a simple healing spell. Her grandmother considered that progress. Now she was seated at the kitchen table while Sheila finished making them some cinnamon tea.

"That should put some warmth back in your bones," Grams said, setting the cup in front of her.

A not altogether uncomfortable silence settled over the two women. Bonnie took slow sips; the tension in her gut beginning to ease as the warmth hit her stomach. She looked up, meeting her grandmother's gaze for the first time since she climbed into the car.

"How did you know where to find me?" She said.

"Honey, I'm a _witch_," Sheila gave a small, indulgent smile. "Niklaus was worried about you when he called. Said you ran off in the middle of a storm. So I cast a simple locator spell. One thing we can say for Niklaus; he always looks out for you."

"But you still hate him."

Sheila sighed.

"I don't _hate _Niklaus," Bonnie was surprised by her grandmother's admission. "But he's a reminder of things I don't like to remember. Losing your mom, all the mistakes I made with her. And Elijah."

"Klaus told me about the Mikaelsons. How Mikael condemned Elijah for marrying my mother."

"I suppose that was one thing Mikael Mikaelson and I agreed on," Grams acknowledged bitterly. "Understand Bonnie, for as long as we have existed, vampires and witches have looked at each other as enemies. That kind of prejudice is not easily changed."

"Mikael saw Elijah's relationship with Abby as a betrayal of both his blood and his kind. That he had violated the family honour by fraternizing with a witch. And when Mikael learned that your mother was pregnant with you, his rage was uncontrollable. He could not stand the thought that Elijah had tainted, as he saw it, the purity of the original bloodline. Mikael pursued them. He hunted his son like an animal, determined to destroy the life he and Abby had built. Your mother came to me for help, but I refused."

Bonnie frowned. "But she was your daughter."

"People do what they do, and what they know," Her grandmother spoke sadly. "I was stubborn, proud. And I was angry at her for the path she'd chosen. So I let my pride speak before the love I had for my child."

"So when you wouldn't help, Abby and Elijah went to Klaus."

"His brotherhood sheltered them for a while," The older Bennett witch swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. Her gaze dropped to the dark liquid swirling in her cup.

"But something went wrong," Bonnie tried to ignore the sudden hollowing in her chest. She needed to hear this. "What happened to my parents?"

Sheila looked at her curiously. "Klaus didn't tell you?"

"He thought it would be better for me to hear it from you."

Her grandmother gave a very unlady-like snort. The older Bennett didn't know whether to kiss the werewolf for his prudence or kick him. She did prefer to be the one to have this conversation with Bonnie. On the other hand, there was no worse feeling than telling someone that their loved one was gone.

"Your father knew that Mikael would never stop coming after them," She started, a familiar ache rising in her chest. "And the life of a fugitive was not what he wanted for his wife and unborn child. Elijah went to Mikael and tried to make peace. But your grandfather betrayed him. He tricked Elijah into giving up Abby's hiding place with the werewolves. Then he ordered his younger son, _Henrik_, the same vampire you met tonight, together with a dark sorceress, to kill you both."

A familiar chill ran down her spine as Bonnie recalled the look in the vampire's eyes, the killing intent she had sensed from him. In that moment she had been imprinted with an image of death and it was not a feeling she would soon forget.

"The moment you were born," Grams continued, "Henrik and the sorceress attacked. Abby was in no condition to defend herself. And the werewolves were no match for a witch as powerful as Sybilla. Niklaus tried to stop it, but he had learned of Mikael's plan too late. He could not get there in time to help Abby. But he did fight Henrik and managed to save you."

Bonnie blinked and a single tear rolled silently down her cheek. Sheila reached for her hand and squeezed.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

Neither Grams nor Bonnie said anything for a while. The memory of the past a near tangible thing in the charged atmosphere of the small kitchen.

"I'm not proud of the choices I made," Sheila spoke at last. Her grandmother sniffed, betraying her raw emotions. "Or the role I inadvertently played in my daughter's death. She was my child. If I had chosen to act, I might have saved her. But my inaction, delivered her closer to danger. I will live with that knowledge, and that guilt, always."

"Why did no-one ever tell me?"

"I thought it was too dangerous," Grams tried to explain. "When Klaus brought you to me, told me what had happened, I swore that I would not repeat the same mistakes. I would keep you safe, no matter what."

"I had a right to know!" Bonnie pressed.

"I was trying to protect you. Niklaus led Mikael and Henrik to believe that you were dead. He had a white witch perform a powerful illusionary spell, to alter Henrik's memories of that night. Then Niklaus smuggled you to Mystic Falls. We agreed that it was best for you to have no knowledge of your father's family. Keeping you far away from the Mikaelsons and concealing your true nature seemed the best way to keep you safe."

"That's why you were so upset. When Klaus showed up..."

"He broke his word to me," Sheila's gaze hardened. "He had promised to stay away, to watch over you from the shadows. He knew the risks in contacting you, but he _still _sought you out."

"But why?" Bonnie demanded. "Why did he decide to approach me _now_, after _eighteen_ years? What changed?" It came to her then; fragments of a conversation between Klaus and her Grams.

_Does he know?_

_I can't be sure. __**She **__says she didn't tell him. But those words don't mean much coming from __**her **__mouth._

"Does this have anything to do with the woman I heard you two talking about earlier today?"

Grams couldn't help but smile. Niklaus's assessment had been right: her granddaughter's quick and agile mind wouldn't take long to piece things together.

"Niklaus informed me that we had made a mistake and you were possibly in grave danger. We were under the impression that he and I were the only ones who knew about your father, and your survival. Three days ago, he found out this was not the case. There is one other, who knew about you Bonnie."

"Who?" Bonnie said urgently, feeling a heavy weight in her chest begin to spiral up into a throbbing of dread.

"The same person who confirmed your identity to Tristan du Bois; who then told Niklaus that Tristan was coming for you. And likely the same person who informed Mikael that you were still alive."

_How did you find me?_

_I found out from an old... **acquaintance** that you were in trouble._

_Who?_

_Just a contact. Someone who trades in information, you might say._

She recalled her conversation with Klaus. He had been evasive about the identity of this _contact_ and, at the time, she had not understood why.

"Who is it, Grams?" She repeated. "Who else knows about me; about...what I am?"

Sheila looked grim. And angry. Bonnie felt herself freeze as Grams uttered two words she would never have expected.

"Katherine Pierce."

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2: <strong>Thanks for reading and apologies for the long wait. This chapter felt a little clunky to me, but I couldn't wrestle with it any longer. I'm at your mercy fair readers. Feedback is always welcome!


	5. Interlude I

**Author's note:** Apologies for the long wait. Reviewers, I adore you! Thank you so much for taking the time to leave such kind, encouraging comments.

To everyone who has favourited, followed, and is otherwise reading this story, words can't express how much I appreciate your support. Your enthusiasm for this tale goes a long way towards keeping me motivated to write it.

I've posted two new updates at the same time. This is because the first _interlude_ is much shorter than a regular chapter.

_Interludes_ feature events that take place in this AU before the start of the story in chapter 1, and/or scenes where neither Bonnie nor Damon appears.

And I'm going to shut up now and let you read in peace ;).

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Interlude I:<strong>_

"_**A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent."**_

_**Two months earlier, June 16**__**th**__** 2010**_

The Mikaelson villa was built near the top of one of the highest hills in the area.

This vantage point offered an expansive view of the ever beautiful Provençal landscape - wooded hills, sloping vineyards, lavender fields, cypress and olive trees, and the tipped peak of Mont Sainte-Victoire on the horizon, breaking the line of the summer sky.

In the midst of these fragrant valleys, medieval villages, and Roman ruins, Marcel Gerard met his timely end.

Mikael breathed deeply of rosemary, lavender and blood as he watched Sybilla set fire to the decapitated corpse. The last of the day's light slanted in on them, bathing the grass, the flowers, the walls and gravel paths in burnished gold.

It was a fitting tribute for the former King of New Orleans. When he learned that Marcel had been plotting to regain control of the French Quarter, Mikael knew that an example had to be made. He had to assault Marcel's resistance straight away and crush him with maximum force. With his treachery exposed, the vampire had fled to France, foolishly believing that he would be beyond Mikael's reach there.

The whole business had been most unfortunate and very inconvenient; his truce with Marcel ending up more trouble than the vampire was worth. But it was done now. Mikael had cut off the head of the snake and his actions would send a powerful message to the very heart of New Orleans' supernatural order: anyone who chose to defy him, to fight against him, would meet certain death.

As the sun lowered behind the wooded hills, Mikael turned to the gravel path that led back to the house. He gestured for his sons, Henrik and Kol, to follow him.

"Sybilla, you will join us for dinner of course, when you are done," He offered the sorceress a courteous smile. She accepted his invitation and the three vampires left her to finish the burial ritual.

They were greeted in the courtyard by a very anxious housekeeper.

"What is the matter, Elodie?" Mikael was immediately on guard.

"Forgive me sir, but there is a young woman just arrived. She is asking to see you."

The Mikaelson patriarch frowned.

"You turned her down, I assume."

"Of course Monsieur, but she is most adamant. She desires some confidence with you and will not leave," The housekeeper confessed, her expression tight.

"Who is this woman?" Kol interrupted.

"She says her name is Katherine Pierce."

Drawing his brows together, Mikael tried to process the information. Obviously he recognized the name. Katherine Pierce. It had been another lifetime. She had always been brazen; always arrogant. Once upon a time, the manipulative wench had tried to weasel her way into his family; tried to play Elijah against his bastard half-brother. But Mikael had soon put a stop to that, exposing her duplicity. He honestly had not spared the harlot a single thought since then. It was two centuries ago.

Her presence now was curious to say the least.

She was not so stupid that she would dare trifle with his family again. Their last encounter was hardly amicable and Mikael had made it clear, he would not hesitate to kill her if she crossed them. Katherine had fled with her tail between her legs and that was where their association had ended. He had no idea, what possible reason she would have, to seek him out now.

"You put her in the study?" He asked. Elodie confirmed this fact. "Very well, let her stay there. I will attend to Miss Pierce shortly. You may return to your duties."

The housekeeper thanked him and then hurried off to finish arranging the family's evening meal.

"What do you think she wants, father?" Henrik asked as they entered the house.

"Evidently, she wants to talk to me."

"And what are you going to do?"

Mikael smirked.

"Talk to her."

XXXX

When Mikael entered the study, freshly showered and dressed for dinner, he saw the brunette sitting in one of the leather chairs across from his desk.

"I see you've lost none of your audacity, Miss Pierce," He said.

She stood up and offered him a deceptively sweet smile.

"Neither have you, dear Count. Your victory over Marcel will certainly give your enemies something to think about. They know now that their treachery will not go unpunished."

If Mikael was surprised by her knowledge of his recent troubles in the French Quarter, he hid it well.

"It's certainly a lesson I taught you well," He retorted. "I hope you've remembered it."

For the smallest moment, her confident mask slipped and Mikael didn't miss the flicker of fear in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came and her expression was even again.

"I have no desire to have you as an enemy, Mikael. And, as a gesture of my goodwill, I have something for you."

She handed him a slim, manila envelope.

Its contents appeared to be some copies of a birth certificate, and a few photo printouts of a beautiful young girl, who couldn't be more than eighteen.

When Mikael read the names on the birth certificate, he stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath.

She didn't even see him move. One minute he was standing frozen in the centre of the room, the next he was directly in Katherine's face, wooden stake at her throat.

"This is a lie; this is **_not possible_**," It was said low and deadly. Even without his vampire face he looked terrifying. "I don't know what game you're playing, but you just made your last mistake. The child _died_. Henrik made certain of it."

"No Mikael," He moved the stake to rest directly over her heart. "Your granddaughter survived," Katherine continued evenly. Mikael was vaguely impressed by her composure, considering the very real possibility that she was about to die. "A witch named Estella cast a spell, to alter Henrik's memory of what happened that night. Klaus was able to escape with the infant and smuggle her to Virginia, to Mystic Falls."

"And why, should I believe a single word that falls from your poisonous mouth?"

Katherine winced as she felt the tip of the stake pierce her skin.

"You and I have one thing in common: that your stepson has been nothing but a thorn in our sides. Klaus is coming for me," Her voice trembled, betraying her fear. "I want to be free of him, Mikael. And you want to get your revenge on the man that murdered your wife."

The Mikaelson patriarch froze. He was coiled tight as a fist, and his eyes turned hard as stone.

"What do you know about Esther?" He demanded.

"I think you'll find my insight _valuable_. But only if you allow me to live."

Very slowly, Mikael lowered the stake and finally released Katherine.

"I'm warning you, Miss Pierce," He threatened, "if this is some elaborate attempt at manipulation…"

"It isn't," She assured him. "I told you. I don't want you for an enemy."

"Then why are you here? What is the point to all this?"

"You've been misinformed; just like you were about the Bennett girl. There is a way to bring your wife back. And I can tell you how."

"And in exchange," Mikael lifted his eyebrows, with an irony that was almost venomous. "I know you didn't come here out of the goodness of your heart."

Katherine didn't hesitate.

"I want you to destroy Klaus."

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2:<strong> The quote at the beginning is taken from the poem "Auguries of Innocence" by William Blake.

Thanks for reading! Hit the 'next' button and head on to the new chapter. Review if you feel like it ;).


	6. Adversity Makes Strange Bedfellows

**Author's note: **The magic incantations come from _Merlin_. I'm simply redeploying them for my own purposes. Some offensive language in this chapter. But I don't think it warrants an M rating.

**Disclaimer:** I still own absolutely nothing. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>5<strong>

**ADVERSITY MAKES STRANGE BEDFELLOWS**

Bonnie rubbed her eyes tiredly as the words on the screen began to blur.

After hiding in her room for three days, she had grown fed up of brooding and feeling sorry for herself. It was not in her nature to sit passively on the sidelines. When she had a problem, she tackled it head on. So she had decided to treat the revelation about her parentage the same as any other supernatural puzzle. The first step – investigate: find out exactly what she was dealing with.

Research was always a good place to start, which is how she ended up at Mystic Falls Library for most of the afternoon. For hours she had been pouring over various myths and folklore, trying to find anything relating to a magical pregnancy between a vampire and a witch.

The closest she had come were some fragments of a Slavic legend. Although that lore was fairly specific about the offspring of a vampire male, and a human female, _always _being _male._ It also made no mention of the human female being a witch.

_More than a thousand years of mythology and not a single mention of a vampire-witch union_, Bonnie thought, waiting for the library catalogue's homepage to reload. Grams had not been exaggerating when she said that vampires and witches had been destined to remain on opposing sides.

Until Abby and Elijah that is.

She had tried searching for 'Original Vampires' or 'Mikaelson' but that had turned up empty. Whatever information may exist about her father's family, _her _family, it clearly wasn't on public record.

The lack of information was making her increasingly anxious. It was a terrifying prospect to think of the blood flowing through her veins and not understand what it meant.

What was she now? How did her vampire heritage meld with her magic? Was the vampiric side of her nature lying dormant, destined to emerge at some inopportune time? Would she too start craving blood or be vulnerable to a wooden stake? Was she immortal?

These questions and a hundred others raced through her head. She wished she could talk to Klaus. But her werewolf uncle was away for the next few days, trying to chase down a lead on Tyler's whereabouts. He had come by two days earlier to let her know and to apologise. He also told her that if she needed him, for any reason, he would come straight back no matter where he was, or what he was busy with, and gave her a secure number to reach him at.

Bonnie felt it would be too selfish, dragging him away from a task to help her friend. Caroline was sick with worry, as Elena's frequent texts continued to inform her.

A pang of guilt twisted in her chest at the thought of her friends.

She had been avoiding them since Saturday night, only sending them a few abrupt, very vague text messages. Maybe it was cowardly, but Bonnie just wasn't ready to face the interrogation she knew was sure to come.

How did you explain to your friends that you were a supernatural phenomenon that shouldn't exist? Especially when you barely understood it yourself.

"Come on," Bonnie muttered under her breath as she hit enter on the new search. "Give me something...a sign...a clue..._anything._"

A raven chose that moment to swoop through the open window and land on her copy of the _Encyclopaedia of Monsters_.

Startled, Bonnie let out an embarrassing squeak that earned her a few dirty looks from the other patrons. Fighting a blush, she turned to look at the bird that was watching her with surprising intensity. There seemed to be a lot of them around lately. Bonnie had found a bird perched on the roof of her Prius that morning.

"Ok, this isn't exactly what I meant," She mumbled. As if it had heard her, the raven took off, ascending towards the rafters.

"_The Vampire in Lore and Legend," _Bonnie's head whipped round so fast it was a wonder she didn't give herself whiplash.

In the next moment her breath caught, as she got a good look at the stranger that had appeared beside her. He was older than Klaus, in his mid to late thirties, and casually examining her book.

"You have an interest in the macabre?"

The young witch swallowed hard as a pair of deep, violet eyes looked at her with curiosity. They were offset by the rich, chestnut colour of his hair that he wore long; the unruly curls just brushing his shoulders. This man radiated a kind of regal otherworldliness, power and strength. Bonnie couldn't help admiring his patrician features, the strong line of his jaw and his slim shoulders. For a moment, she thought she might swoon like every romance heroine she'd ever read, but she managed to resist the silly impulse.

"It's for my English class," She spoke quickly, finally ungluing her tongue from where it had been stuck to her palate. "I'm writing a paper on the literary history of the vampire," the lie rolled off her tongue far too easily.

"I see," the stranger nodded in understanding. "You go to Mystic Secondary School?"

She nodded.

"Then perhaps you would be interested in some of the local lore." The witches' eyes widened. He couldn't possibly be speaking about the Salvatores.

"Every town has its secrets. Even one as charming and quaint as Mystic Falls," He set the book down. "Have you ever heard the tale of Lady Somerset? She was a real figure of nightmare."

"Why?"

He leaned in conspiratorially. "Lady Somerset was obsessed with finding a way to defeat death. She believed blood was the source of eternal youth."

"The lady was known to have a particularly fierce temper. As the story goes, when a servant girl accidentally pulled her hair, she struck the girl so hard she drew blood. But," He paused dramatically, "the blood that appeared seemed to give the skin a fresher, more youthful appearance. And so she began her bloody campaign, draining the bodies of her hand maidens. There were rumours, too, of her involvement with the occult."

"Witches?" Bonnie frowned. As far as she knew, the only witches in Mystic Falls had always been of the Bennett line.

"Oh yes. Lady Somerset was believed to partake in all kinds of corrupt acts of depravity," his voice lowered to a whisper, "and sexual deviance." The young witch fought the impulse to blush as his tone became decidedly more intimate. Alarm bells were going off in her head and Bonnie quickly put some distance between them.

The stranger betrayed no outward sign that he was aware of the effect he was having on her.

"_Neila Somerset_," He continued. "Look it up. I'm sure the tale will make _very interesting_ reading."

The raven suddenly swept down from the rafters, passing right over her. Bonnie ducked instinctively and when she looked up again, the man had vanished.

Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, Bonnie turned his words over in her mind.

The entire encounter had been strange, particularly her reaction to him. Bonnie was a normal, hormonal teenage girl. But she had never had such a visceral reaction to any man before. It wasn't even sexual attraction. She couldn't put a name to the inexplicable draw she had felt to the enigmatic stranger.

It was troubling. The feeling that she may no longer be in control of her own senses. But she was intrigued now.

Giving herself a firm mental shake, Bonnie entered 'Neila Somerset' into the search function. One title popped up in the results. The oddness of their encounter aside, there was evidently some truth to what he had told her, she mused as she scribbled the title and shelf number down before heading to the information desk. _The_ _Blood Countess: Murders at Mystic Hill Manor _was in the Rare Books and Special Collections section. Only the librarian could retrieve the books for you.

"Oh dear," The pretty librarian frowned when she saw the title Bonnie had requested. "I'm afraid we no longer have this in our collection."

"It's listed in the catalogue."

"Unfortunately, we haven't had a chance to update our system yet. It was a month ago. Our only copy was checked out but never returned." The woman tutted. "I don't know what we're coming to when people start stealing material from a _public library_."

Bonnie offered a sympathetic smile.

"Do you know where I might be able to find another copy?"

"That could be difficult," the librarian said apologetically. "It's been out of print for several years. The author was a local historian and he published locally, only about a hundred copies."

"Tell you what though," the woman brightened suddenly, "I'm sure there would have been some articles written at the time."

"Like newspaper articles?"

"Just so. Although the manor murders predate the _Mystic Mirror_, they would still have archives of Fell's _Mystic Journal_. You could try there. And if nothing turns up under 'Mystic Hill Manor', try 'Lockwood Manor' instead."

_That _got Bonnie's attention.

"Lockwood?" Her eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Yes. It's the same house."

XXXX

"Bonnie! Telephone for you! It's Logan Fell, from the _Mystic Mirror_."

The young witch bounded down the stairs and tried not to notice the suspicious way Grams was eyeing her.

"Mr. Fell," She said, picking up the receiver. "I didn't think you'd get to back to me so soon."

"_Well you got me curious. A three hundred year old murder case in Mystic Falls? That's more than your usual small town gossip."_

"And did you manage to find anything?" She asked eagerly.

_"It's not altogether good news. I checked the Journal, and there was mention of a case back in July, 1756."_

"So what's the bad news?"

_"The file was empty. It seems the police at the time seized all material and records pertaining to the case. Freedom of the Press wasn't a concept they were that familiar with back then. And unfortunately, access to confidential police files is above my pay grade. Sorry, kid." _

Bonnie thanked him for his help and then hung up. Sheila was still watching her.

"Grams?" Her voice came out smaller than she would have liked. But there were few things more terrifying than the patented Sheila Bennett glare.

"Would you like to tell me why Logan Fell is calling my _teenage granddaughter_?" The elder Bennett witch said sharply.

"It's nothing," Bonnie tried for nonchalance. "Just some research on local history. Mr Fell was helping me dig up some old newspaper articles."

Sheila's gaze narrowed with laser-like intensity and Bonnie fought the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.

"This research wouldn't have something to do with the disappearance of Tyler Lockwood, would it?"

"No," She spoke quickly. Too quickly.

Sheila sighed.

"Bonnie, I realise that things between us are still a little...raw," Her voice softened. "But please don't lie to me."

Bonnie remained silent, but she couldn't quite meet her grandmother's gaze.

"I know you just want to help," Sheila continued. "But you are meddling with things you don't fully understand. The Mikaelsons are dangerous."

"So that means we should just give in?" Her granddaughter's voice was incredulous; her chartreuse orbs sparked with defiance.

"_No_, that means we act with _caution_. And _pick_ our battles. Leave this one for Klaus. He said he would find Tyler. So whatever you're thinking, Bonnie, I want you to stop."

"I can't just abandon my friend," She retorted stubbornly.

"This is not up for debate." The young witch cringed at the steel in her grandmother's voice. "Now promise me. You'll let Klaus handle this."

Bonnie stood quietly for a moment. She was biting her bottom lip, uncrossing and crossing her arms again. Her body language was fairly screaming her reluctance.

"Okay," She said finally. Releasing a slow breath and sending a silent plea for her Grams to forgive her, Bonnie continued. "I promise to let Klaus be the one to rescue Tyler."

Sheila left her then, satisfied with her answer, and Bonnie went back to her room. She collapsed onto her bed, her brow crumpled as she felt the beginnings of a tension head ache.

She didn't like lying to her grandmother but backing down was not an option. Rolling onto her stomach, Bonnie reached for the notes she had been going over before.

'Mystic Hill Manor'_, '_1756'and 'Lockwood' were scrawled untidily across the page. It couldn't be a coincidence that Tyler had captured the interest of a group of vampires when, nearly three hundred years ago, his _family home_ had been the site of a series of murders, committed by a rumoured vampire.

There _had_ to be a connection, she was certain of it. And her only possible lead was locked away in some dusty police archive. Sheriff Forbes wasn't likely to grant access to murder cases to a teenager.

Bonnie froze, a thought taking shape in her mind. She couldn't ask the sheriff for the case file, but there was someone else who could. It was still a long shot, but it was what she had to work with.

"Damnit," She groaned slightly. This wasn't going to be fun.

But if she wanted his help, she would have to swallow her pride.

XXXX

Damon wondered when exactly he had become so soft that teenage girls thought it perfectly alright to barge into his home and take over his living room.

He was a one hundred and forty five year old vampire who could snap your neck, and drain you dry, before you even had a chance to scream for help.

At one time, all it took was a carefully arched eyebrow and an icy glare, and that would be enough to strike the fear of God into any mortal soul. These days, all it got him was an eye roll, usually from one of the high school kids that seemed to frequent his company.

Two of them were rifling through his book collection right now.

Damon was pretending to be thoroughly engrossed in his copy of _The Call of the Wild_, while surreptitiously watching the proceedings. For the past half hour, Caroline and Elena had been doing a curious little two-step around Stefan.

If Caroline moved closer to Stefan to get a better look at the manuscript, Elena moved closer on his free side.

If Caroline sat next to Stefan on the sofa while he explained what an original vampire was, Elena perched on the arm rest closest to the younger Salvatore.

When Stefan handed a book back to Caroline, that she clumsily dropped, Elena asked Stefan to get a book for her that she couldn't reach. All of this was punctuated by a number of conspicuous looks exchanged between the girls. More than once Caroline threw a silent "What is _up_?" to the pretty brunette who feigned innocence.

To his brother's credit, Stefan very diplomatically chose not to acknowledge the teenagers' odd behaviour. But when Elena deliberately tripped, practically landing in Stefan's lap, while he was busy translating a passage of Latin for Caroline, even his saintly little brother could no longer ignore that level of ridiculousness. Stefan promptly excused himself and disappeared into the kitchen.

He had clearly had enough. And so had Damon.

It was amusing at first, to watch his brother diligently feign ignorance while Elena and Caroline practically made him into a Stefan sandwich. The two friends in question had now retreated to a corner of the living room. They started to argue in earnest, albeit in fiercely hushed whispers.

When Damon bothered to eavesdrop, he clearly heard Caroline asking Elena what her stick was. He frowned when he heard Elena retort that the blonde cheerleader was making a habit of moving in on her ex-boyfriends. To which Caroline sputtered indignantly and reminded the brunette that _Tyler_ was her boyfriend, and he had never shown any interest in Elena. This last point was made rather gleefully. They continued to get into it, but Damon tuned out, preoccupied with his own thoughts.

He had always believed that the reason Elena resisted his advances was because she was determined to stay faithful to her boyfriend – it was the principle of the thing.

At the time, Damon had admired that quality in the young Gilbert girl. Although it didn't make him any less determined to steal her away from his brother.

But Stefan was no longer part of the equation and still she seemed to be dancing between the two of them. Earlier, when she first arrived at the boarding house, Damon had overheard her talking to Stefan; heard her tell Stefan that she still loved him.

She had kissed Damon. And with that same mouth whispered sweet nothings in his little brother's ear.

He couldn't fault Stefan though, as much as he would like to. Stefan had made it clear to Elena, _again,_ that they were over and he was not going to go down this road with her a second time. But despite this, there she was, not ten minutes later, engaging in that childish display with Caroline. Damon was beginning to question whether Elena wasn't so much virtuous, as she was flighty. And too weak willed to make her own decision.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather his resolve.

He would wait for Elena because she _could_ love him. She _did _love him. She just needed time to come to terms with it, to accept it.

_You're like a lost puppy, licking at her heels, desperate to accept any measly scraps she'll throw you. It's pathetic._

An irritatingly familiar voice echoed in his head.

Oh no, he was not going to give credence to _her _words.

_Would any powerful, self-respecting, centuries old vampire really let himself be strung along by an embryo in heels? _The voice nudged him again.

_It's a valid point, brother._

Great. Now he was hearing Stefan in his head, evidently agreeing with his...what?...id?...conscience?

He needed to get drunk.

Moving to pour a glass of bourbon, Damon downed his drink in one gulp. He poured another, attempting to drown out his treacherous thoughts.

Damon would wait. And he would continue fighting to be patient because he loved Elena...right?

_KNOCK! KNOCK!_

"Oh this day just keeps getting _better_ and _better_," He snarked when he saw exactly _who_ was standing on the other side of the heavy oak door.

There, in all her annoying, judgey, witchy – or should that be _vamp_itchy now – glory, stood the bane of his existence; Bonnie Bennett, the girl who's favourite past times seemed to be setting his brain on fire or confusing the hell out of him.

"Hello to you too, Damon." He made a careless gesture for her to enter.

The witch arched a sceptical eyebrow as she followed him to the centre of the room.

"You're in a mood," She noted. "Someone piss in your bourbon?"

"Funny." Damon dropped onto the sofa, not bothering to offer her a seat.

Bonnie frowned.

"You're a little light on snark this afternoon; bumpy day?"

"Do you care?"

Before Bonnie had a chance to respond she was tackled by a mass of blonde curls.

"Caroline...can't...need to breathe..." She managed to get out as her friend pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," The blonde smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes and was nowhere near its usual radiance. "I'm just...I'm really glad to see you, Bon."

The witch reached for her friend's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"How have you been, Bonnie?" Stefan had ventured back to the living room.

Bonnie seemed to search the younger Salvatore's face, trying to see if there was anything else behind the innocent question.

"I'm alright," She said finally. Damon scowled as she smiled at his little brother. "It's just been a really weird couple of days."

The elder Salvatore snorted rudely.

"That's one way of putting it," He muttered under his breath. Bonnie shot him a warning look, but the blue-eyed vampire kept mum, putting on an otherwise bored expression

After Bonnie ran off, it had been left to him to clue their little group in on the events of the night. However, Damon left out the part about Bonnie being the daughter of an ancient, incredibly powerful vampire, and how her witch mother's pregnancy was an unprecedented event in the history of his kind. He hadn't even told Stefan.

From the way she was underplaying it now, clearly Bonnie wasn't yet ready to disclose the truth about her parents to her friends. That suited him fine. Damon was in no mood to field the torrent of questions he was sure the Scooby gang would have once they knew. So he would keep the little witch's secret.

He had been doing that a lot lately.

"You all look like you've been busy," Bonnie's voice cut into his thoughts. She glanced at the various books and loose manuscript sheets littering every surface. "What's going on?"

"Stefan's been helping us go through the Salvatore library," Elena spoke up and Damon felt another flare of annoyance at the tender look she gave his brother. "We thought we might come across something that could help us find Tyler."

The little witch turned to her blonde friend with concern.

"I'm a terrible friend," She said. "I'm sorry for not being there the past few days. How have you been Care? How's Tyler's family holding up?"

The usually bubbly girl shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. His parents are putting on a brave face, but it's clear they're out of their mind with worry. Tyler's family isn't perfect; he hasn't had the best relationship with his mum and dad. But he's still their son. I just want him back, Bon."

"You know, Klaus is doing everything he can to find him," Bonnie tried to reassure her.

"Good ol' White Fang."

"Shut up, Damon!" Caroline snapped fiercely, practically shooting daggers with her gaze as she turned her ire on him. "This Klaus guy doesn't even know Tyler and he's trying to help. What have you done?! You've been sitting on your ass all day, sulking in your bourbon! You're the same self-centred asshole you've always been; you don't give a shit about anyone, and no-one gives a shit about you!"

Caroline's chest heaved, looking for the air her rant had denied her body. Her porcelain skin was flushed with anger. Damon, however, was on his feet and ready to strike; his eyes so dark they almost looked navy blue.

"Damon-"

"I'm sorry, _Caroline_," He ignored his brother; his voice low and dangerous as he spat her name like it was something vile. "But I happen to be committed to _reality_. And the reality is, there's _nothing_ in these books that can help your boyfriend. Stefan may let you run through this little exercise in futility, so you can feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like you're actually _doing something_. But the truth is, you're useless; ineffective; there's _nothing_ _**you **_can do." Damon wielded every word like a weapon.

"If there's any way to find Lockwood, the werewolf will be on to it and whatever plan he's working is probably the only one that'll get the jock back. And if he can't, then I'm sorry to break it to you, sweetheart," He sneered, not sounding sorry at all, "but you'll never see your BF again. So excuse me if I choose not to waste my time on a bullshit errand."

Damon finished his speech by draining his glass. He felt surprisingly calm after ripping into Caroline. The girl in question was staring at him in horror, her mouth gaping awkwardly and her eyes reddened with unshed tears.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Damon?" Stefan spoke softly, but that didn't mask the angry disappointment in his tone.

"I tell it like it is," He retorted bluntly.

Elena guided Caroline to the nearest armchair. The little witch was staring at him, an unreadable expression in the depths of her mossy green gaze. But she didn't say anything to him, choosing to focus her attention on Caroline.

"Care, listen to me. We will find a way to get Tyler back," Bonnie spoke with conviction. "There's _always_ a way. And there may be something I can do to help."

"You mean, with your magic?" Caroline looked up at her friend hopefully.

Bonnie nodded.

"The locater spell I tried didn't work. But I'll see if there's another spell I can use. If it's in my Grimoire, I'll find it. We're going to make this right, Care, I promise. I won't give up on him. I will never stop fighting for Tyler, and neither should you."

She bent to hug her friend and when she pulled back, the blonde girl was sitting up a little straighter, evidently buoyed by the little witch's words. Even Stefan had stopped brooding; a hint of a smile in his eyes and renewed purpose. The cloud Damon's bitter speech had left hanging over them was beginning to clear, in the wake of Bonnie's impassioned words.

The little witch squeezed his brother's arm as she passed him and Stefan gave a small nod in silent understanding. Then she continued to make her way to Damon. He was leaning against the fireplace. Not the best place to be when about to confront an angry Bennett witch with incendiary talents.

Damon rolled his eyes and readied himself for the tongue-lashing he was sure Judgey had stored somewhere, just for such an occasion.

"So predictable," He murmured. "Alright then, Bon-bon. Take your best shot."

"Actually, I need to talk to you for a minute. In private."

Damon's eyebrows arched so high they practically disappeared into his hairline.

"Damon?" Bonnie prompted him when he just continued to stare at her dumbly.

"Damon Salvatore speechless," Stefan chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Can it, brother," That seemed to bring Damon back to himself. "We can talk upstairs, Judgey." He added brusquely.

She followed behind him obediently and Damon could admit to feeling a petty satisfaction, as he felt Elena's narrowed gaze following him all the way until he disappeared from view, with her best friend, at the top of the stairs.

XXXX

Bonnie had expected Damon to lead her to another study or guest room. She had not thought he would bring her to his bedroom.

Seeing her hesitate in his doorway, he looked at her expectantly. "Are you waiting for a written invitation?"

Hearing the obvious challenge in his tone, Bonnie squared her shoulders, met his gaze purposefully and walked into the large master bedroom. Damon smirked at her obvious show.

_There's the judgey little witch I know,_ he thought.

"What's the plan then, Bon-bon? You get me up here all alone so you can torch me without witnesses?" He said bitterly.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Believe it or not Damon, I'm didn't come here to pick a fight with you."

"_Really_?" His voice was mocking. "Cause that's _all_ you seem to do lately."

"Lately. But not today. As much as I hate to say it..." Bonnie released a harsh breath, "...today, I need your help."

Azure eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm sorry, _what?_"

"You have vampire hearing, Damon; you heard what I said."

"_You_, need _my_ help?" He smirked. "Bonnie "do-gooder" Bennett, is asking selfish, assholian evil doer Damon Salvatore _for help_?"

"You could try to be less of an ass about it," Bonnie griped.

"That's not a very polite way to talk to the person whose _help_ you need."

"D'you think you can quit being obnoxious, long enough to actually hear me out?" Bonnie swallowed hard, struggling not to lose her patience. His reaction was no less than she had expected. But there was a bigger picture here. However, it was hard to focus on that when she kept envisioning her fist smashing into the raven-haired vampire's face.

"What's in it for me?" Damon challenged.

"Are you kidding me?" She burst out. "You want a quid pro quo? If anything, you're the one who owes me. I saved your life, remember?"

"Oh that's rich coming from you, Bonnie!" Damon snapped. "Out of the two of us, I'm definitely not the one who's been acting like they want to forget what happened. And now you summon me up here, like I have something to answer for. Well I don't answer to you. Fucking hell," Damon glanced heavenwards, as though praying for patience. "Do you ever get tired of being a self-righteous, sanctimonious bitch? I'm beginning to see why you don't have a boyfriend."

Okay, that was a low blow, and it admittedly kind of hurt. But Bonnie knew what he was doing. When Damon was angry, his instinctive response was to retaliate and take that anger out on the rest of the world. Right now, she just happened to be within firing range.

"You know what, screw this," She forced herself to swallow the hurt his words had caused. "I came here, against my better judgement, because I thought that maybe, just once, you'd be capable of being something other than a world class jerk. I don't know what's got you in such a pissy mood, but I'm not doing this with you, Damon. I'm not going to be your punching bag. You lashed out at Caroline before, and now you're trying to pull the same crap with me. Well I'm sorry, but that's not how this is going to go. If you're just looking for a fight, if you're not interested in what I have to say, then tell me and I'll quit wasting my time. Otherwise, get your shit together and maybe you can help me figure out what's been happening in this town."

Seemingly at an impasse, Bonnie and Damon stared at one another tensely in the charged silence. Behind her back, Bonnie twisted her fingers as she waited for the vampire's response. His expression was unreadable as his eyes bore into her.

"Fine," He spoke at last. "I guess it makes sense for us to try and figure this out together," Damon admitted grudgingly. "I know there are probably a million people you'd rather be doing this with, but I'm the only one who knows the whole story." Bonnie was surprised by that comment. So he hadn't even told Stefan; she'd wondered about that. "And let's face it, the others wouldn't be able to handle it anyway. But I do have one condition."

"Which is?"

"If you're gonna bring me into this, then I'm in all the way. That means no more Team Bonnie and Klaus, running around on your own private errands. You cut me in on everything. I get to know what you know. That _son of a bitch_ Henrik tried to kill me! And I don't take shit like that lying down," Damon spoke fiercely, his blue eyes glinting dangerously. "So I'm a part of this now."

Bonnie bit her bottom lip, contemplating his words.

"So basically, you're proposing we form a kind of partnership?" She hedged.

"Until this is over, yes," Damon nodded.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" She eyed him sceptically. "There's a pretty good chance we'll save Henrik the trouble and wind up killing each other."

"You don't give us enough credit, Judgey," Damon smirked. "We've made a pretty good team before. That is, when you stop_ lecturing_ me long enough."

"And when you're not being an _egotistical dick_," Bonnie retorted with mock sweetness.

"_Rude_."

Damon glared at her, but if Bonnie didn't know better, she would have sworn that he was actually more amused than offended.

"So what do you say?" He offered a pale hand. "Partners?"

_God, I hope I don't end up regretting this_, the teenage witch thought.

Bonnie accepted his hand.

XXXX

_Hider eft funde. On bisse ne middangeard._

His violet eyes glowed gold as he uttered the incantation and poured the libation into the basin. After a few moments the amber liquid was clear as a mountain stream.

_Hider eft funde. On Benedictus ne middanmidhis._

He chanted again and this time an image of the young witch appeared. Tristan frowned when he saw that she was talking to the raven-haired vampire again. She was telling him about Nelia Somerset and Lockwood Manor. She was convinced that it had some connection to their recent trials.

A slow smile spread across the warlock's face.

The witch had been set on her path. Her continued association with the vampire was not ideal, but Damon Salvatore may have some part to play yet. And if he proved an obstacle, he could be dealt with easily enough.

"A great destiny awaits you, Bonnie Bennett."

For now, Tristan was satisfied.

**TBC**

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><p><strong>AN 2: <strong> My OC Nelia Somerset is inspired by the tale of Erzsebet (Elizabeth, in the Western world) Bathory, dubbed the "Blood Countess", and considered by some to be the first female serial killer, as well as having connections to vampirism.

Some of you have been asking about what happened on Bonnie and Damon's weekend road trip (that takes place before the start of the story in chapter 1). I will be featuring a flashback at some point, showing what went down, and why it made Bonnie extra pissy around him. In the mean time...

Up next chapter: Damon and Bonnie do something illegal, which just might lead to some Bamon cuddles on the Salvatore Boarding House couch!

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the new installments. Feedback is welcome and always appreciated.


	7. Partner in Crime

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much everyone for taking the time to read, favourite, follow, review and otherwise support this story.

Now strap in, lovelies! This is going to be a long one. Also, the point of view switches a lot throughout the chapter. I hope it's not confusing. And I am working on improving it and making it more consistent.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><strong>6<strong>

**PARTNER IN CRIME**

_The concentration of NH__3__ is 0.102 mole/litre, N__2__ is 1.03 moles/litre, and H__2__ is 1.62 moles/litre. Calculate __K__ for the reaction: 2NH__3__(g) ↔ N__2__(g) + 3H__2__(g)_

"Advanced Chem, huh?" Damon crouched down so he could read over her shoulder, leaning right into her space. "Seriously, Judgey. It's Friday and you're doing homework?"

When Bonnie had arrived at the boarding house, Damon was still out. He had left a message for her, telling her to wait for him in his bedroom. They would have more privacy and less chance of being interrupted.

Damon showed up half an hour later and was greeted by the incongruous image of the little witch sitting on his bedroom floor, books open, lying in a semi-circle around her. His drapes were open and the spill of afternoon light painted her with golden vibrancy; gilding her smooth skin and dark hair.

Bonnie curled up her lip, and Damon was close enough to see the details of the graceful line of her mouth.

"Well I can't exactly do it after I've been arrested," She huffed, snapping the book shut, "which, considering this insane plan, is looking pretty likely."

"This was your idea," Damon pointed out.

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

He met her eyes stonily. "It's not my fault Liz decided to be so inconveniently unhelpful. I'd compel her to give me clearance, but she happens to like her coffee with vervaine. If you're too scared to go through with this..."

She sucked in an outraged breath. "I am not scared."

"Good. Then if you're done bitching, can we go over our plan?" His smirk told her that he'd known that already – he'd only called her scared to get under her skin.

Willing down her annoyance, Bonnie made herself retain her composure. "Of course," She said coolly.

Getting to her feet, she followed Damon to a large, old-fashioned table set up in a corner of the room. It was covered in papers.

"What's all this?" She asked, reaching out to pick up a random file.

"You asked me to do research, didn't you?" He waved his hand over the mess on the table. "This is research."

Her mouth dropped open and Damon felt the corners of his mouth twitch, pleased that he had managed to surprise the judgey little witch.

"I just asked you to find out about the layout and security," She said incredulously. "What the hell is all this?"

Damon made an irritated noise in his throat and promptly snatched the file she'd been looking at away.

"Hey!"

"Do you want my help or not?" He sounded genuinely annoyed and Bonnie had the decency to look a little contrite.

"Yes, I want your help. Thanks for all the work you did," She said sincerely. Bonnie hadn't meant to give him a hard time, she was just surprised. He really had made an effort "Do you want to show me what you've got?"

Damon smirked lecherously. "Now there's an invitation if ever I heard one. Oww!" His eyes narrowed at the sneaky little witch.

Emerald flashed to gold and his copy of _Jude the Obscure_ had smacked him firmly in the back of the head. A flick of her wrist sent the book floating neatly back to its place on the shelf. Damon grumbled something under his breath, but Bonnie couldn't make out the words. She decided that was just as well.

Glaring at him, she continued. "I'm not playing around here, Damon. So stop pushing buttons and give me something."

"My, aren't we edgy today," He rubbed the back of his head. But he did show her.

"The archives are not actually in the sheriff's department but in the annex – a building two streets away," He explained. "Two security guards are posted out front during the day, one patrols the building at night. Inside, the front desk is manned by a very pretty, very helpful red-head," Damon added slyly, to which Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Every visitor to the archive has to present the proper authorisation and sign in to the desk log with her. She goes off duty every night at ten. But not before she's activated the brand new, state of the art, fancy security system the council had installed."

"Security system?"

Damon nodded. "Motion sensors, security codes...James Bond kinda deal."

She frowned. "For a bunch of old paperwork?"

"Apparently. There was a break in last month. Nothing was reported stolen. But that's when the council signed off on the new system."

Bonnie was staring at the floor, as if rehearsing a large amount of information in her mind. The break-in at the archive had happened in the same month that _The Blood Countess_ went missing from the library. Huh.

"Judgey? You still with me?" Damon waved a hand in front of her face.

"Yeah," She nodded quickly. "You were saying something about the security system..."

"No," He said, shaking his head. "I was telling you that the old case files are kept on the basement level. And it's accessed through a stairwell on the ground level. Try to keep up," His tone dripped with impatience.

Bonnie glared at him and muttered something rude under her breath. Damon's cerulean eyes widened.

"Vampire, remember?" He reminded her. "I can hear you."

"You were supposed to," She snapped back.

He sneered at her. "If you continue to be so sweet to me, I might regret agreeing to help you launch mission impossible."

Bonnie sniffed disdainfully and stuck out her chest. Damon knew it was purely a posture of indignation on the witch's part. But it also happened to make her cleavage become more prominent.

"Fine," She complained. "But you have to quit being a condescending jerk."

"Fine," He mimicked irritably, although his eyes darted down a few times to the deep crease and shadow her low neckline displayed. "Can I continue now?"

Bonnie nodded. "Please tell me. How exactly are we going to unlock the ground level door to the basement stairwell; which can only be accessed with a six digit clearance code, which we won't have?" Her lips started to twitch as she predicted his reaction. She wasn't disappointed.

His jaw dropped open.

"What?" She shrugged. "I told you I was listening. So what did you come up with?"

Damon unrolled a thick sheet of paper and spread it out over the other clutter on his table. She walked over and stood beside him to look down with him at the drawing.

"It's an old survey map of Mystic Falls," She realised.

He pointed her through the layout of the town. "During the civil war, the council built a series of subterranean tunnels under the town. So they could transport supplies in secret and, if the worst happened, safely evacuate the town. Some sympathizers with the abolitionists also used the tunnels to smuggle slaves out of Mystic Falls."

Drawing her eyebrows together, Bonnie looked at Damon curiously.

"How did you know about this?"

"These tunnels are how I smuggled Emily's children to safety."

The little witch blinked in surprise, while he continued to stare at her intensely; his expression at once curious and contemplative.

Bonnie had never known the specific details of Damon's deal with her ancestor. Only that, in later years, he had failed to honour it. But evidently, there had been a time when Damon had intended to fulfil his duty. It was also another reminder of just how old he really was. His eternally youthful appearance, frozen at twenty five, made it so easy to forget just how long and how much the vampire had lived through.

Their discussion had taken an unexpected turn and Bonnie felt strangely nervous. The same way she felt that night in Dublin, when Damon had allowed himself to be unexpectedly vulnerable with her. It was so much easier to view him through the bitter lens she had constructed over the past year; the one he, more often than not, played right into. When he did reveal another side to himself, it was jarring. Unsettling.

But she was too proud to let him see that.

"So which tunnel do you think we should use to get into the annex?" She said finally, already having guessed where this was going.

"Here. The old jail. Later a popular drinking hole in the 1950s, currently an abandoned block of disused offices," He was all business now, that strange intensity vanishing completely. He didn't call her out on her obvious avoidance of the fact he'd played a part in helping her ancestors. But something like dry amusement, was flickering once more in his eyes.

With an elegant finger, he traced a line across the map. "This should lead us directly to the basement level of the annex. We can get in and out, as we please. No clearance code, no security system. If we run into the guard, I can just compel him to go away."

Bonnie stared at the map. Her forehead wrinkled as she reflected for, what seemed to Damon, an endless stretch of time. And then she looked up. Emerald eyes shining.

"You really went all out," She said finally. "This is...this is really good, Damon. Thank you."

For once, there was no suspicion in her voice. Bonnie spoke with such simple sincerity, that she really was grateful and pleased with what he'd come up with.

"You're welcome," He shifted on his feet, almost shyly - something no one ever associated with Damon Salvatore.

He shook his head roughly, as if he'd said something he hadn't intended to say. "I'll pick you up at ten thirty this evening. We're less likely to get noticed if we go with one car."

Bonnie nodded in agreement. "I'll be staying at Matt's tonight. Grams isn't exactly thrilled about my recent extracurricular activities. So Matt's covering for me."

Damon cleared his throat. "Right."

"We're actually doing this then," Bonnie bit her bottom lip; a sudden nervous shiver of excitement running down her spine. "We're going to break into the Mystic Falls Police Archives."

"Looks that way." Then he couldn't resist adding, "I can't believe I've let you sucker me into this."

Bonnie cocked her head; her gaze knowing; lips tilting with an ironic smile. "You should be flattered, Damon. After all, I did choose you_,_" She said dryly. "Clearly, that makes you the biggest sucker of them all."

XXXX

The tunnels were dark and dank. Some sort of algae-like vegetation was growing on the narrow walls and you couldn't take a breath without your senses being assaulted by the sharp stench of sulphur. She half expected to find a corpse rattling around somewhere. Shining her torchlight, she spied her vampire companion coming back out the side tunnel he had just disappeared through.

"We need to go that way," He indicated the mouth of the opposite side passage.

"Damon..."

"Don't nag, Judgey. We'll be out in a minute."

Bonnie rolled her eyes in exasperation. _It is a truth universally acknowledged that a male, in possession of a map, will never concede he needs help with directions_, she silently parodied Austen's line.

They had been wandering the underground passages for forty five minutes now, when it should have taken them no more than fifteen to reach the annex. So far, Bonnie had held her tongue about the fact that Damon didn't know his way as well as he'd thought; the route he'd planned for them being less straight forward than he had anticipated. But the dark, confined space was starting to work on Bonnie, and her patience was quickly evaporating.

"You've been saying that for the last half hour," She grumbled.

"So we took a wrong turn here and there. But now-"

"But nothing," Bonnie interrupted rudely. "These tunnels run all over town, right up to the railway line. We could cross into the next county and be none the wiser. Face it, Damon. You have no idea where you are leading us."

He sneered at her. "I don't see you doing any better. In fact, so far, I've been doing all the work on this little venture."

Damon flung the map he'd been carrying at her, smacking her square in the face. "Go on, witch. You think I'm doing such a piss poor job? Figure it out and show us the way out of here." He was irritated with her now. But he wasn't the only one.

"I can do that," She acknowledged dryly. "But basic courtesy would have you phrase the request as a question rather than a bossy demand. Don't blame me for your poor sense of direction."

Damon actually felt his fangs drop. She had been right. They were going to kill each other long before they ever managed to figure this mess out. Right now, all he wanted was to snap her infuriating little witchy neck.

For her part, Bonnie seemed oblivious to the vampire fighting to resist his homicidal urges. Her brow wrinkled in thought as she studied the map. Biting her lip, Bonnie looked up at the two indistinguishable caverns in front of her.

Which one led to the annex - to the left, or to the right?

Then it happened.

It was the briefest of flashes, but her vision suddenly jumped forward, as though she were fast forwarding through the scenes of a film, and she clearly saw a network of tunnels and the archive at the end of them.

"I can see."

"What the hell..." Damon was looking at her strangely. His baleful glare replaced by bewilderment. "Bonnie...your face..." He trailed off.

Instinctively, her hand rose to touch her face. She gasped. The veins near her temples were unusually pronounced. Bonnie could clearly feel the bulging vessels.

"What's happening to me?" She asked desperately, her earlier irritation with him forgotten; eyes wide with alarm.

The raven-haired vampire shook his head. It was actually sort of pretty. The veins around her eyes were an unusual silver colour, almost opalescent. It reminded Damon of the black veins a vampire got when about to feed. Wait a minute.

"Bonnie, what did you mean before?" He said quickly. "You said you can see?"

"Damon, I think we have slightly more pressing issues," Her voice went up several decibels as she struggled to hide her growing panic.

"And I think I have an idea about that. But first, I need you to tell me what you meant," He urged.

"Uh...I..." Bonnie took a calming breath and tried to focus. "I could see the way ahead, as if I was tracking the path," She explained. "It was like a map inside my head. Does that make sense?"

"Yes actually," Damon nodded, a theory beginning to take shape. The sudden gleam in his eye was doing nothing to reassure Bonnie.

"Well would you care to share with the rest of the class?" She snapped.

"Bonnie, it's alright. Something like this had to happen eventually, right?"

"Damon, I swear to God, if you don't start making sense I'm gonna light you up like Litvinenko!"

Reaching out, he put his hands on her shoulders, in such a familiar way that Bonnie immediately calmed. The veins on her face had gone back to normal and Damon idly traced his thumb over her left temple. She didn't move a muscle, watching him anxiously.

"You know that vampires have enhanced sensory awareness," He explained. "But you're also a witch. I'm guessing that, whatever you inherited from your father's genetics, your magic could allow you to extend those abilities."

"So where a vampire would have enhanced sight..." Bonnie said, understanding dawning.

"...you'd be able to say, extend your field of vision and actually see the way ahead, for example. This isn't a bad thing Bon-bon."

"No, it's just a really freaky, weird thing."

"Says the girl who can start fires with her mind."

"Touché," Bonnie cracked a small smile but it didn't reach her eyes. She looked incredibly young suddenly; so small and frightened. Damon could hear her quickening breath, the nervous pounding of her heart; blood rushing through her veins.

"You ok?" His gaze bore into her, not entirely sure what he was looking for.

"Not really," She shrugged. "Just when I think things can't possibly get any—" She broke off. "Forget it. We don't have time for my identity crisis," She quipped. "If you're right about this, I might be able to see our route out of here."

"What you saw before, you think you can do it again?"

"Honestly, I don't even know how I did it the first time. But I have to try," Bonnie said, her face determined.

Focusing on the two tunnels, Bonnie tried to recall the image of the annex she saw and concentrated hard, channelling her energy. Damon watched in silent awe as the veins near her temples turned opalescent and became more prominent once more.

"This way," She said finally, heading into the tunnel on the right.

Bonnie continued to navigate for them and Damon followed wordlessly as she led them through the underground labyrinth, eventually bringing them to a heavy iron door, emblazoned with a familiar coat of arms.

"The crest of the original founders' council," Damon murmured, tracing the heraldic symbols.

"Then I guess we're in the right spot."

The door was chained shut but that presented no challenge to a hundred year old vampire with superhuman strength. Damon easily broke the restraints and then, at Bonnie's nod, turned the handle.

The door swung open with an eerie creak. Taking care, Damon stepped first through the doorway into the darkened room. Bonnie could make out one or two tables and the outline of several towering stacks. But their torches didn't provide enough light in the large room.

_Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum._

Her eyes flashed gold and Damon watched as a glowing ball of light appeared in the witch's hand. She released it and the glowing orb floated upwards, lighting the whole room with its' gentle glow.

"Neat trick," He switched off his torch. Damon took a few steps forward, scanning the endless rows of case files; town secrets divvied up and boxed away; chapters of history the people would prefer to forget, the vampire thought bitterly. He froze then and drew his brows together. Bonnie gave him a questioning look.

"The guard," He answered her silent question. "He's doing a routine sweep."

"Close to us?"

Damon paused and listened again for the man's heavy footfalls. Somewhere above them he could hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

"First floor. I think he's working his way down."

"Then we need to get moving," She looked determined and before his eyes, the vulnerable teenage girl in the tunnels had once more shifted into a stern-faced witch.

"How are we gonna find the manor murders in all this?" Damon rubbed the back of his neck.

Bonnie actually smirked. "I may have some ideas about that. Locater spells aren't just for people."

Damon clapped his hands together gleefully. "The benefits of having a witch in your pocket."

"Excuse me?" The witch in question said sharply, brows elevated.

"I just meant being able to use magic is expedient. Convenient in a jam," He tried for a charming smile but if anything, Bonnie was now glaring at him harder.

"Convenient?" She parroted back. "For who? You?" The look in her eyes something between incredulity and ire. This conversation was going south, fast, and he needed to stop things before he ended up with his head on fire.

They both froze however when they heard a noise directly above them. A door opening. The guard was on the ground floor.

"We don't have time for this," Damon said impatiently. "This conversation can wait, that guard won't. And you have a spell to finish," He urged Bonnie to action.

She didn't argue but it was clear she was still annoyed with him. She took a few steps until she was standing in the centre of the room. Damon watched as she produced a piece of chalk from the small bag she had with her and drew an unusual pattern of letters on the floor.

"What are those?"

"Druidic runes," She said blandly at his curious stare.

"Shouldn't you be lighting candles or something?" He questioned.

"You've been watching that lame vampire series again," Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Now stop distracting me and let me finish the incantation."

Damon bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to make a snide retort. He could hear the guard on the stairwell now.

Eyes the colour of ferns flashed gold as she uttered the spell and...nothing happened.

"Bonnie?" She was frowning, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

"Give me a second, Damon."

"Did you say it right?"

"Of course I said it right."

"You're sure you don't need candles?"

"Damon!"

"Then what?"

"I...I don't know," She shook her head. "I'll say it again."

"Well say it fast," Damon glanced at the door to the stairwell. "We've got company."

A noise sounded at the end of the hall. She gave him what was becoming a very familiar sneer and repeated the incantation. Damon watched the door to the stairwell and listened for the guard.

_Berbay odothay arisan yeldo_

A door opened and shut...

_Diegol cnytte._

...and then a slow, heavy tread moving down the stairs...

_Gewitte me yst._

"I don't mean to pressure you Bon-bon..." The guard was almost down the stairs.

_Aliese hine, to he cymp!_

Suddenly, all the shelves began to rattle. There was a sound of rustling paper and a box flew off the stack near Damon, seemingly of its own volition, heading straight for Bonnie. The vampire had to dart out of the way. Unfortunately, he ended up stepping right back into the stack behind him.

Bonnie jumped and covered her mouth with one hand as all the boxes tumbled to the floor in a noisy, messy heap. Was horrified to see Damon had somehow ended up in the same heap as the boxes.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" The vampire muttered furiously. He first looked startled, then like he wanted to hit something, then like he wanted to hit her.

"Who's there?" They heard a voice from a short distance away.

"Damn it!" Damon was back on his feet.

"Security. Show yourselves." The guard's voice came again, louder this time. He was getting closer to their position.

"Stay here," He said brusquely, and then flashed over to the stairwell door just as the guard opened it from the other side.

"What the hell!" The man stared in shock, stumbling back slightly at the sight of Damon standing right in front of him. "Show me your hands." He tried to sound authoritative, shining a flash light on to the vampire's face. "This is private property, mister. You can't be here."

Damon blinked, the dark pupil of his eyes dilating. "Turn that damn thing off."

The guard automatically turned the flashlight off and Bonnie realised he was under Damon's compulsion.

"You didn't see anything. Everything's fine. Go back upstairs to your post and finish your shift. At sunrise, you'll forget this ever happened. It was just another ordinary shift," He instructed; the timbre of his voice deep and low. "Go now."

The guard blinked a few times, and then turned around, going back the way he came. Bonnie and Damon were alone in the basement once more. With the guard taken care of, Damon's focus returned to the little witch.

"That was your fault." He glared at the chaos of boxes just behind her.

"I didn't make you walk into that shelf," Bonnie argued.

"No, you just hurled a box like a boomerang at my head!"

"You're so dramatic."

She picked up the box that was the cause of all the trouble, setting it on a nearby table so she could look through its contents. Damon watched as her lips moved silently and her eyes flashed gold. A second set of documents appeared on the desk.

"Be careful with these," Bonnie said, handing the original set of documents to Damon. She replaced the copies in the box. He rolled his eyes.

"Like I'm going to do damage just by looking at them," He grumbled. The look Bonnie gave him said that she thought he probably could.

"Let's just get out of here," She flicked her wrist and the stack Damon had upset instantly righted itself. Her brow crumpled with a painful grimace though, her hand going to her temple at the sudden stab of pain. Damon watched her tense body and face carefully.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," She shrugged him off. When Damon didn't look convinced, she relented. "It happens sometimes when I use a lot of magic. And that vision trick was...I just pushed my magic more than usual. I'm fine. It'll pass."

Damon still looked sceptical but didn't question her any further. However, when he followed her back out to the tunnels, his hand went out unconsciously and settled in the middle of her back.

XXXX

They were driving back to the boarding house when the weather broke. A great rumble seemed to rise from the very depths of the earth and the sky was torn open, rain coming down in thick sheets.

Damon had arched a raven brow and half-jokingly asked, "Is this you?"

"Maybe one day," She had replied, it was the first sentence she'd spoken to him since they had left the archives.

Now they were tucked away in Damon's room, where they worked in companionable silence as they went through the documents they pilfered.

"In 1756, Nelia H.K. Somerset arrived as a guest at Mystic Hill Manor, the home of Frederick Fairfax, some British aristocrat," She went over her notes. "That July, Fairfax, his family and his entire household were killed at the manor."

Thunder rolled loudly; an appropriately ominous accompaniment, fitting to their discussion. Bonnie shivered.

"_On Friday, 21__st__ July,"_ Damon began to read from the old report, unaffected by the storm, "_a gruesome discovery of the dreadful massacre at Mystic Hill Manor, situated at Mystic Falls, in the county of Virginia, was made. Myself and our fair governor's son, Charles Lockwood, famed for his part in the investigation of the Wickery Horror, are to guide the enquiry. The victims, including four children, their governess, and Lord & Lady Fairfax, were discovered on the 21__st__ instance, at about eight in the morning, by the family's housekeeper...Miss Marie Belle Bennett._"

"Another coincidence to add to our list. My ancestor and Tyler's; both connected to the manor murders."

He rubbed a hand through his hair. "Do we know for sure that this Somerset woman was a vampire?"

Bonnie shuffled through some papers. "According to this, Lady Somerset came to Mystic Falls in May 1756. Right around that time, there were suddenly frequent animal attacks, throats mauled, bodies drained of blood. That's pretty consistent with your vampire MO," She argued and Damon had to agree. "What did the rest of Henry Fell's report say?" She asked and he started reading again.

"..._Miss Bennett somehow survived the bloodletting. Though, thus far, she's been able to shed no light on the identity of the person or persons who visited such terrible violence upon her master's family and their faithful servants. The family's guest, Lady Nelia Somerset is presently missing and does not appear to have been at the manor, at the time of the attack._ Fell and Lockwood found no trace of her after that. She just disappeared."

The vampire pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look Bonnie, let's say Somerset was a vampire. And maybe she was even behind the murders, but what's that got to do with anything going on now? Is there any connection between Somerset and the Mikaelsons?" He said sceptically.

"There has to be," Bonnie insisted. "We just haven't found it yet."

"Bonnie..."

"I'm right about this, Damon. Mystic Hill Manor and the Lockwood's home is the same house." She waved another set of papers at him. "It says here that Charles Lockwood bought the house a month after the murder inquest was closed. Why would he do that? And what about Marie Belle, the only survivor? If something supernatural attacked that family, being a witch, she would have been able to protect herself. It would also explain why she couldn't say anything about the attackers or how she survived. If it came out that she was a witch..."

"All that might be true. But it still doesn't point to the Mikaelsons or explain their interest in Tyler. I'm just saying; we need to stay in the here and now. Why are you so sure that this is all part of the same thing?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped suddenly. Damon elevated his brows at her sudden silence. She stared at the yellowed papers in her hand, ink faded. He had no idea what to make of the tumultuous expression in her mossy green gaze.

"I don't know," She said finally. "That's the truth, Damon. I can't explain it. But I trust my instincts. And what happened at that house, what's happening now... I just have this overwhelming feeling of-" She broke off; iridescent eyes wide with apprehension.

"What?"

"Dread."

The room was plunged into darkness.

XXXX

Bonnie waited in the bedroom while Damon went to find some candles. The storm had taken out the power Stefan said, when he came up to check on them.

To this his brother had politely replied, "_Thank you Captain Obvious_," before he all but shoved Stefan out of the room, and the little witch gave him a sympathetic smile. She knew the younger Salvatore was curious about her sudden affinity for his brother's company. But he was also astute enough to know that Bonnie would confide in him if she wanted to.

They had built a tentative friendship over the past few months, owed largely to their need to work together over the whole fiasco with the tomb. Stefan may not fully trust his brother, but he did trust her.

"_Why do you assume I'm going to hurt Bonnie?" _That was Damon's annoyed voice echoing off the walls, and what was clearly the beginning of an argument.

Bonnie settled on the floor near the foot of Damon's bed. It was half past one now and she was starting to feel the day's events catch up to her. Her entire body felt heavy and her vision was becoming hazy, the edges of the world blurring. The low, harsh murmurs of the brothers arguing grew fainter; Bonnie heard the strains of a piano and began to drift away.

XXXX

Stefan followed Damon to the kitchen. His brother gave no indication that he was even aware of his presence as he puttered around, digging out candles and matches.

"What have you gotten Bonnie mixed up in?" He spoke when it became clear Damon wasn't going to.

The raven-haired vampire smirked. "That would be none of your business, Steffi," He playfully tweaked the end of his brother's nose. Stefan batted his hands away.

"Real cute, Damon. But I'm warning you. Don't drag Bonnie into your games. If you hurt her..."

"What?" All trace of amusement left him. "You know Stefan; I'm getting really sick of your attitude. Why do you assume that I'm going to hurt Bonnie? That I'm always the bad guy?"

"Because all you've done for the last hundred years is leave a trail of misery and destruction."

"You think you've got me all figured out."

"I know you're not happy, unless everyone else is unhappy."

"Not everyone, Stefan. Just you," Damon said bitterly.

"You're reckless," His brother continued. "And it doesn't matter who gets hurt. You don't care who has to pay. I know you, Damon."

"Maybe not as well as you think," Damon said coldly; his cyan eyes darkening in anger at Stefan's accusations. His brother met his gaze evenly, revealing nothing in his shuttered gaze.

"Leave Bonnie alone," He spoke plainly.

"Or what?" He sneered. "What Bonnie and I get up to is between me and her. So stay out of my business, little brother," Damon didn't raise his voice, but that did nothing to soften the underlying threat. "You think you know me so well?" He loomed over Stefan. "Then you know what I'll do if you get in my way."

There was no way of knowing which of them would have been more stubborn. And they weren't ever going to find out. Because just at that moment, they heard the groan of the heavy, oak, front door as it swung open.

The brothers exchanged a look before flashing out to the entrance hall, just in time to see Bonnie disappearing down the drive; moving with the ethereal grace of a dancer as she walked out into the raging tempest.

"What in the h-"

XXXX

_Mid paem wundorcraeft paes ealdan aewb ic pe hate nime Estheres wopdropan ond pa gemengan midhis blod._

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed loudly in the empty hallway.

The first thing Bonnie noticed was how dark the house was. Thick velvet curtains were drawn over the windows with only the dim glow of candles to light the way.

_Sy he under wittig ond deofol seocnes midhis heorte afylb._

Uncertain what to do, she tentatively made her way further down the corridor following the sound of the chanting.

A low rumbling somewhere behind Bonnie caused her to stop. Her entire body tensed, head cocked like a bird as she tried to listen for the sound again. Was that the beating of...wings?

The sound was getting louder, drawing nearer she thought, her heart practically in her throat as she tried to brace herself for whatever was heading this way.

Bonnie ducked as a flock of ravens swept down the passage, passing swiftly over her.

_What the hell was going on?_

Feeling her breathing steady and her heart beat calm; Bonnie continued to follow the chanting.

_Sy he under wittig ond deofol nime Benedictus midhis blod aewb wundorcraeft ic pe libertatem weorc untoworpenlic. _

She was in a large sitting room. Empty wine glasses and an abandoned card game were the remnants of some sort of party. And in the centre of the room, two European men and a beautiful caramel-skinned woman stood around something wrapped in a shroud.

_A body, _Bonnie realised with growing apprehension.

They were dressed in period clothes evocative of the Georgian era. Neither of the three seemed to notice her presence. The men moved to kneel on either side of the body while the woman remained standing, so they were now in a triad formation.

The man closest to Bonnie was dark-haired while his companion...the young witch gasped.

"Klaus?"

He seemed not to hear her. But the woman suddenly turned to look straight at Bonnie, her viridian eyes bearing an uncanny resemblance to the teenager's own emerald orbs.

"It is time," She said stepping towards Bonnie. "You must follow me."

"Follow you where? Who are you?" Bonnie cried, bewildered. But the woman did not answer, simply led the way to an adjacent room. Klaus and the other man had not moved from their kneeling position; they didn't even seem to notice them.

"Hey wait!" Left with no other choice, Bonnie hurried after the woman.

As soon as she left the room, a terrible tremor began to shake the entire house followed by a loud banging.

"_Elijah!_" An unfamiliar voice called. The young witch froze as the dark haired man appeared in the corridor. _"You will not do this! Heed my words: do not forsake everything that has been given to you. Or I will bring down the very __**fires of hell**__ upon you and you will __**beg**__ for death before the end!"_

"_Elijah..." _Klaus joined his half-brother, while Bonnie continued to watch silently; unable to tear her eyes away from her father.

"_We cannot submit to him, brother," _Elijah's voice was low and commanding._ "You and Belle finish it. I will buy you as much time as I can."_

"_If we do this, you will never be safe. He will try to destroy you,"_ Klaus spoke gravely.

"_He can do as he will. They destroyed us a long time ago, Klaus,"_ Elijah said sadly. _"But no matter what adversity we face, we will not betray ourselves to the same darkness. I will not let them take another soul...or die trying. Now go!"_

Bonnie watched Elijah head further into the house while Klaus returned to the drawing room.

"Quickly now!" The woman, Belle, grabbed her hand. "We must hurry!"

With one last glance at Elijah's disappearing form, Bonnie followed the woman as she led her through a maze of corridors.

"I don't understand!" The young witch cried in confusion. "Where are you leading me? How am I even—"

There was a blinding light as Belle tugged her through another doorway.

Bonnie blinked and the scene had changed again.

XXXX

"Bonnie!" Damon called out at the top of his lungs.

A peal of thunder was his only reply.

"Stefan! Anything?"

"Nothing," his brother called back. "And it's getting harder to see in all this fog."

The rain was bad enough. If not for his vampire vision, Damon doubted he would have been able to see more than three feet in front of his face. But just as they were closing in on the little witch, a thick mist seemed to rise out of nowhere and swallowed her up.

"It has to be magic," Stefan said.

Damon silently agreed. Something or someone had lured Bonnie out into the storm. And it clearly didn't want them to find her.

"We should split up," Damon said. "She can't be too far ahead of us."

Stefan looked at his brother worriedly.

"Damon, whatever's behind this, we don't know-"

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it," He cut his brother off. "Either way, we're not leaving the little witch out here, agreed? So let's not waste time brooding about it. Just find her."

XXXX

She was standing outside, on the front lawn of an oddly familiar colonial style mansion. Glancing at the night sky, Bonnie noticed the moon looked especially bright.

A carriage was coming up the drive and three attendants stood ready to greet it. From inside the mansion, the sound of laughter and conversation drifted out to her, accompanied by a haunting piano melody.

Someone was playing Chopin's Nocturne Op. 9 in B-flat minor.

"Come this way."

A young woman in Victorian clothing suddenly appeared before her. She wore a very familiar crystal amulet.

"Emily?" Bonnie looked at her ancestor in shock.

The other Bennett witch did not wait for Bonnie, leaving her no choice but to follow. Emily kept to the shadows, careful to avoid any of the grounds-men or attending servants. She led them to a set of whitewashed buildings on the edge of the estate. Stables, Bonnie realized. And they were not alone.

There was a man waiting by the west-facing wall, next to an old well. He was a gentleman, judging by the finery of his clothes and Bonnie wondered at the reason for such a clandestine meeting.

"You've risked much, Miss Bennett," The man spoke at their approach. "I know it could not have been easy for you to get here." He did not even look at Bonnie and the younger witch realized that, once more, she was an invisible spectator.

Emily gave a wry smile.

"When you've spent a lifetime running, you learn how to hide in plain sight."

The stranger's expression softened and there was something familiar about his dark eyes.

"It will not always be this way."

"And that is why I have come," She reached into the pocket of her apron and produced a small velvet pouch. "I am trusting you, Mr. Lockwood. To protect and ensure the hope for our future."

Lockwood accepted the small purse, studying it curiously.

"Do not open it," Emily warned. "For you will be drawn by her call."

The gentleman elevated his brow. In the stables, the horses were restless. An icy wind whipped at Bonnie's face and hair, stinging against her cheeks. Whatever that purse contained was immeasurably powerful.

_Bonnie!_ A voice drifted on the air and the witch flinched.

"There is no way to destroy it?"

"No power that I possess. And I have tried."

_Bonnie! _

Her breathing quickened and she could hear her own heart beating loudly in her ears. She felt herself being tugged backwards, as though pulled by an invisible thread. But she wanted to hear the rest of Emily and Lockwood's conversation.

"Then we will continue as we are. And hide this evil where none may ever find it. Where he may never recover it."

"Here," She handed him what looked like an ornate-looking pocket watch. "Guard it carefully. It will help guide you, and all who follow, in the dark days to come."

_Bonnie!_

Light erupted on all sides.

XXXX

Her knees buckled and Bonnie fell forward onto the wet grass. She was trembling, hunched over on all fours, taking shuddering breaths against the tumultuous emotions storming through her heart.

That was how he found her, in the centre of a wooded clearing, on the land bordering the grounds of the boarding house. He touched her shoulder and she screamed, unconsciously releasing a wave of magic that knocked him flat on his back.

"Bonnie, it's alright," The vampire gained his feet. "It's just me, it's Stefan."

"Stefan?" She blinked against the water coating her lashes. Only then did Bonnie realize that it was still raining.

The younger Salvatore crouched down next to her.

"I didn't mean to scare you," He spoke gently. "Are you alright?"

"I...I don't know..." Wide, viridian eyes looked round in shock. "I don't understand...I saw Lockwood..."

"Tyler?"

"No. George Lockwood. And he was...how did I get here?" Her mind was bouncing from one topic to the next. "What I saw...what was that, Stefan? What was that?!"

He shook his head helplessly.

"I don't know Bonnie. You wandered out into the storm. Damon and I came after you. I think you were enchanted."

The young witch looked enlightened; something between alarm and excitement shining in her eyes.

"Yes, I was in some kind of trance. The last thing I remember is hearing you and your brother arguing. I was falling asleep; there was music...a piano. And then I was somewhere else...Stefan, I saw my father!"

She was getting excited now, words tumbling out, quick as lightening as she tried to explain what she had seen. He could hear her heart rate increase, the blood rushing through her veins as the adrenaline kicked in. But Stefan was beginning to worry that she was in danger of getting hypothermia. Throughout her speech, Bonnie had not stopped shivering with cold. She had been out in the storm too long and he had no idea what to make of her ramblings. But they could figure that out later.

"Bonnie, we need to get you back to the boarding house," He said kindly, when she finally stopped for breath. "We can talk more there. But you can't stay out here. Come on," He helped the young witch up.

The minute she was on her feet, a painful cry ripped from her throat. She bit her bottom lip, trying hard to stave off the tears burning in her eyes, and sagged against Stefan heavily; clutching him with a bruising strength he did not expect from the teenage girl. Alarmed, the vampire immediately started checking her over to see where she was hurt.

That's when he noticed that she was barefoot and bleeding.

In her enchanted state, Bonnie had not been conscious of where she stepped. Unable to avoid the sharp brambles and jagged stones as she wandered across the wooded area, her feet had been badly torn.

Stefan scooped her up without hesitation and then took off in the direction of the boarding house.

As the mist finally cleared, he could see his brother ahead of them, also making his way up the drive. Damon's eyes narrowed at the sight of Stefan cradling Bonnie. The adrenalin finally seemed to be wearing off and exhaustion was setting in. She was still shivering when Stefan handed her over to the raven-haired vampire.

"She can't walk," was all he said.

Damon nodded slightly, knowing that Stefan was struggling to be around a bleeding Bonnie. The blood from her wounded feet was singing to him and he was used to a regular diet of A-negative. He could only imagine what it was doing to his little brother.

Damon didn't say anything as he carried her into the living room, setting her down on the sofa. But when he got a good look at the state of her feet, his eyes widened in that way that made him look almost feral.

"Of all the stubborn, infuriating, idiotic females...damn it, Bonnie," he snarled. And then stormed out of the room.

The witch stared dumbfounded at the empty living room. "Talk about infuriating," She muttered. "Yell at me and then stomp away as if I've been a naughty child. Heartless. Insensitive. Mean. Rude."

She would have continued listing Damon's negative qualities, but he returned just then. She knew he had to have heard her.

Damon had brought with him a box of band-aids, a bottle of antiseptic wash, and some gauze.

"Oh," Bonnie said, when she saw he was planning to help her. She idly wondered what a vampire was doing with first aid supplies.

Damon didn't look at her as he started to prepare the supplies. He poured some of the antiseptic wash onto a piece of the gauze.

Bonnie reached to take it from him, but before she could, he knelt down next to the sofa, took her ankle in his hand, and started treating her injuries himself.

There was no rational reason for it. She couldn't explain it if she tried. But it was all wrong. Damon's cool hand on her bare ankle. His submissive position before her. It wasn't right and she could feel her panic mounting.

She was disoriented and upset, her feet were killing her. And now Damon was confusing her further with his inexplicable gesture of kindness. It was too much. Through all the chaos and painful revelations of the last few days, hell, in the last few hours, one truth had remained unchanged. But now, even that seemed to be shifting beneath her feet.

What was Damon doing? Because this surely wasn't them.

Frantically, Bonnie tried to pull away from him and nearly toppled off the sofa in the process.

Her actions backfired spectacularly. Damon jumped up in time to steady her and now his arm was around her waist. "What the hell, Bonnie?" he roared. "What are you trying to do?"

She wriggled until he let her go. She needed to have some distance between them.

"I'm not one of your women!" She snapped at him, irrationally. "I can do it myself," She hated the way her voice went up several decibels.

"Well you aren't going to do it yourself," Damon grated through clenched teeth. He was furious and stressed and at the end of what modest patience he had. "You're damn well going to suffer my touch long enough for me to make sure you don't get an infection. I'm not making a move on you so there's no need to behave like an outraged virgin. Now sit still and stop acting like a lunatic." He knelt back down on the carpet and started applying the antiseptic, which burned against her wounds.

But Bonnie didn't utter so much as a whimper.

She was thoroughly chastised and embarrassed, feeling like an idiot for her overreaction. Damon focused on her feet, covering her right foot with band-aids and started working on her other foot. Bonnie used his pre-occupation to try and get herself together, concentrating on the physical pain as something to help centre her thoughts.

"Thank you," She choked out, when he finally put on the last band-aid. Damon got to his feet and flashed out of the room again. He returned this time with a set of towels, an old sweatshirt and a pair of boxers. Bonnie took the items and started to head for the bathroom before she realized she didn't know the way.

"Where's the-?"

"Second door on the right," Damon said. "But you shouldn't be walking on your feet yet. I'll carry you."

She didn't have a chance to protest as Damon flashed them over to the downstairs bathroom. Bonnie had her hand on the door knob, when she was stopped by the vampire's hand on her shoulder. He turned her around until she was facing him. "Judgey," he said, in a low voice.

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie made herself meet his eyes. She wouldn't let herself be a coward. "I'm sorry," she admitted, and Damon's eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead in surprise. "I was a little...hysterical. But I'm calm now."

He moved in closer, held her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head up toward his as he peered into her chartreuse eyes.

"You're kind of giving me whiplash here, Bon-bon."

Damon released her chin.

"I know exactly how little you think of me. I know you'd rather be doing this with someone, anyone else. But we had a deal. We're in this together. That means we have to help each other."

She nodded slowly, almost mesmerized by the intense look in his eyes. Damon was right. The whole point of this partnership was for them to work together. If she kept fighting him on every little thing, they would wear themselves out. Not to mention, it was extremely counter-productive.

"I'm sorry," She repeated. "And you're right. We don't have to be best friends or anything, but we are on the same team. I'll try to start acting more like it."

Bonnie frowned at Damon. The vampire walked away without a word.

"What are you doing?" She said, as he made a big show of peering out the stained glass windows. It was still raining.

"Just checking for any pigs flying. Or maybe a swarm of locusts. Because Bonnie Bennett admitting I was right and apologizing all in the same night? That must signal the end of days," He smirked.

Now they were back in familiar territory. Bonnie started to feel a little better.

"I'll arrange the ice-skating party in hell," She quipped, adding, "But don't get used to it, bloodsucker," as she ducked into the bathroom and Damon complained,

"Don't nickname, Judgey. That's my thing!"

XXXX

Bonnie woke up thinking she was being smothered.

It felt like a suffocating weight was pressed mercilessly onto her face. Instinctively pushing back against it, she froze when she heard an answering moan. Her eyes snapped open.

It was Damon.

More specifically, Damon Salvatore's belly, had been pressed into her face and was still smashed up against her cheek.

Bonnie felt her cheeks burn and she prayed Damon wouldn't wake up as she tried to untangle them.

After Bonnie had finished getting changed, they'd spent the rest of the night talking over what had happened to her. She had told him all about the two strange visions she had of her ancestors, seeing Elijah and Klaus. At some point, they must have fallen asleep together on the sofa.

Bonnie knew she had a tendency to move around a lot in her sleep. She must have rolled over to face Damon, and somehow ended up halfway down his body. At some point, Bonnie assumed that she had tried to roll onto her back , but Damon had rolled with her until he was lying basically on top of her.

"Good morning."

All thoughts of discreetly moving away from Damon were abandoned.

Bonnie practically flew off the couch, landing with a loud thud, to see Stefan watching her with an amused smile. And now Damon was starting to wake up.

He rubbed a hand over his face, still not entirely lucid, as he reached blindly for the comforting warmth he'd been enveloped in moments before.

"Bonnie," He grumbled, pouting slightly. "Come back to b—"

She looked at the raven-haired vampire like he'd grown a second head. Damon, for his part, looked equally shocked by what he'd almost said. He was fully awake now and his eyes were so wide, Bonnie feared they might fall out.

The awkward silence becoming too much, she scrambled to her feet, muttering something about needing the bathroom.

When she emerged a short while later, having freshened up a little and finally willing down the tell-tale blush in her cheeks, she found Stefan on his own in the kitchen.

He slid a cup of coffee across the table to her which she gratefully accepted.

"So," Stefan began conversationally. "You and my brother..."

"We're working on something to help Tyler," She said.

The younger Salvatore made a contemplative noise.

"You're working together, sleeping together," He ignored Bonnie's glare, "Should I expect a happy announcement by the end of the day?"

"You're a regular comedian. You should take your show on the road."

"Only if you agree to be my supporting act," He winked at her playfully.

"No can do, little brother," Damon joined the conversation suddenly. "Bon-bon is already contractually obligated to yours truly."

He strode into the kitchen, freshly showered, and appeared completely relaxed. All trace of his earlier embarrassment vanished. Bonnie was relieved. If he was happy to ignore the fact they had woken up in an awkward and rather compromising position, she wasn't going to complain.

She grimaced slightly and looked away awkwardly as Damon poured himself a cup of blood. He gave her a challenging look.

"Still squeamish huh?" He sounded amused. "Even after you let—"

Her mobile chose that moment to ring, cutting Damon off. She smiled when she saw who the caller was.

'Saved by the bell' He mouthed at her. Bonnie rolled her eyes. They were on the same team but he could still be a real ass.

"Klaus!" Both vampires were suddenly very interested in this phone call. "I'm so glad you called."

"_How are you, love?""_

"There've been some...developments," Bonnie chose her words carefully, mindful of her audience.

"_Are you alright? Are you safe?"_ His voice immediately became concerned.

"I'm fine," She assured her...uncle. Wow. She was still getting used to that. "But there are some things I need to talk to you about."

Her gaze locked with Damon's then, and Stefan watched as his brother seemed to have a silent conversation with Bonnie. This was something to do with what Bonnie claimed they were working on.

"_That sounds serious, love. And I promise we can catch up as soon as I've returned. But for the moment, that discussion will have to wait. I have some news for you, about your friend."_

"Tyler?" She was suddenly filled with trepidation. But still, she hoped...

"_Young Mr. Lockwood is alive,"_ Klaus confirmed. And Bonnie released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Oh thank god."

"_I found out the location where Henrik's been holding him,"_ Klaus continued. _"I will need a few hours. Then I shall endeavour to retrieve him."_

"Tell me where. I'll meet you," Bonnie said immediately.

"_I appreciate that love, but I think it best you sit this one out."_

"Tyler's my friend," She said stubbornly. "And I'm a witch. I can help. What is it with everyone thinking I need to be coddled?"

Damon raised his eyebrows at Bonnie's increasingly annoyed tone, and smirked into his cup. A part of him couldn't help feeling a bit smug. Let's see how White Fang dealt with being at the receiving end of his little witch's ire.

"_Bonnie, I know better than anyone the greatness you are capable of."_

Smooth, Damon thought, annoyed.

"_But we need to be strategic about this. Henrik could have killed you that night in the woods. That he didn't tells me that he means to take you alive. If you join me, we will be playing directly into his hands. And I would rather make him work much harder for the privilege of your company. Don't you think so, love?"_

Bonnie grumbled her agreement, but she couldn't deny that Klaus was speaking sense. This was news to the Salvatore brothers however.

Damon hadn't really given much thought to what Henrik's endgame had been that night. He just wanted the bastard to pay for trying to end him. But looking back, it did seem that he was toying with Bonnie when it would have been so easy to take her life.

Stefan, on the other hand, was beginning to suspect that Damon had left out some crucial details when he told them what had transpired.

"But Klaus," Bonnie's voice snapped both vampires back to the here and now. "If Henrik, is that dangerous, you can't go in there alone."

"_Oh I know, love,"_ She could hear the smirk in his voice. _"And believe me, I don't plan to." _

**TBC**

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: <strong>So how'd I do? I'm trying to develop the Bonnie/Damon relationship in a natural and realistic way. This chapter was supposed to be another turning point of sorts for them. I hope I was at least half-way successful at that.

Also, quick question: would you prefer shorter updates, with more frequent posts? Or longer updates, that take longer to post?

Leave me a review or PM to tell me your preference.

Thanks for reading!


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